Indoor Thunder + Gargoyle on the Toilet, two stories by Julienne Grey

THERE'S a yellow grocery bag in the branch of my grandmother’s tree, hanging above the ash that was once her home. She’s not there to see it. As soon as she’d felt fire, she sped west with a watermelon strapped to her passenger seat. She let the flames eat it all: the photos and the sheet music, the kitsch and the nude watercolor of Grandpa that she’d pinned in the doorway.
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