Author: Kristi DeMeester

The Lightning Bird

Taking it up, she smiled into the storm creeping into the kitchen. Lightning cracked in the distance, and the room flooded with ghostly light. The thunder drummed against the house, and she stood and gave herself over to the sound.

Read More

Mothers Who Consume

I don’t remember the first time I caught my mother in a lie. There are years and enough broken truth to construct something that used to look like my life in between then and now. I think about the girl child I was often.

Read More

Damnatio Ad Beastias

The blue pills came first. Robin’s egg blue and smelling faintly chemical when Madeline opened the bottle. Then yellow, and a green the color of scum that grew on the pond her landlord called a “water feature.” Finally, a striated capsule all violet and cream. Madeline had liked that one. It made her feel like she was swallowing flower petals.

Read More