Short Fiction
Lettie Prell

The Open-Hearted

She beamed and held out her left arm. It was an oval-shaped tattoo, a glistening green jewel. It looked remarkably three-dimensional. Smaller, honeycomb-like markings guarded the central slit of a cat’s-eye image. But he’d seen something—

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Short Fiction
Lettie Prell

The Performance Artist

On the first day, she sits there wearing a black dress that is neither provocative nor sexless. Yet visitors who flock in from the cold January streets and ascend to the atrium on MoMA’s second floor are mesmerized, for the entire space is awash in a video installation depicting various interactions between machines and flesh.

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