Short Fictions from Web Del Sol


Bradford Morrow

Hold your breath and see the anemone, down by the high-tide pilings in the wharf, a flowerlike, ghostlike, windlike creature, anémos, jelly buttercup whirly and whorling. It behaves like flora in its fauna limbs, it floats like helium in its water world. Dulse and ribbonweeds sway with its sea leaps, mussels and whelks sit beside it when it rests. It has few enemies, the anemone; and melts when touched.
      The oceans support so many ghosts, many flowers and many winds, but none is more vegetable than this air, none more dancing than this music, the music of the origami umbrella's name, anemone of the ways, translucent breeze.
      Anemone, anemone.

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