Tag Archives: Carson Pytell

Phaeacia

I gather that if I painted a jagged square of plywood in all black but with two white blots in the upper left and bottom right with tails trailing off, down and upwards, leaving a thin strip of woodgrain in … Continue reading

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Fog

He held the glass up to her, showing her the reflection. She looked, then paused, then furrowed and said: “You have a mouth. I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me.” He turned the mirror around, breathed fog onto … Continue reading

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Names

Call me a different name, I hate my own. Mother says she dreamt it, meaning she didn’t put any effort in it. It just sounded nice. Father went along, he didn’t care. But for some reason his father’s name is … Continue reading

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