(3,239 Words)
this is a brief excerpt:
The coyote ran across the path in front of Shana not two feet ahead of her. She stopped to watch it disappear into the arroyo before continuing her walk down the dirt path. A feeling was awakened in her again, something she felt often on her solitary morning walks while her girlfriend, Raven, slept back at the casita. Hot coffee would be brewing when Shana returned. They had their routines, their predictability. This is what becomes evident in a long relationship.
Pulling her mask up onto her face as she noticed an elderly man approaching, walking his dog on a tight leash, Shana picked up her pace. They nodded to each other without exchanging words in shared anonymity. This is all so surreal, when can we get back to normal, Shana thought.
“It’s like we’re all hungry ghosts,” she whispered out loud to herself.
Most mornings she was alone out here, only occasionally passing another early riser out walking the dusty roads. She felt the crisis had much to do with that, keeping everyone indoors and out of sight. It was at once eerie and peaceful, inducing a soul-searching before the day kicked in, another day of wondering what the future held for a humanity hanging by a thread.
. . .
© 2020, Mary Corbin
Desert is from the Ephemerata Collection. Featured artwork: “Coyote Dreams” – painting by Mary Corbin. An early version of this story was published online and in the print magazine copy of Hedgeapple Magazine on April 19, 2021. No reprints without permission.
mary corbin writes 