The children don't understand.The sweets they pine for are not squeezed from the machine with stripes intact. No—they must be painted on, by hand, with so much care. It is almost unimaginable, the ... [+]
Deborah L. Davitt writes acclaimed poetry, short stories, and novels. For more about her work, please see www.edda-earth.com "From a High Perch, Waiting" is in Short Circuit #05, Short Édition's quarterly review.
He climbed a telephone pole first;next, a cell phone tower,because he'd heard of ancient saintswho clambered up pillarsto be closer to god,or at least, further from humanity.People thought he wanted to jump,shouted that he had so muchto live for, got the police into talk him down—the cops accused him of trespassing.Reporters asked if he was protestingthe hidden dangers of microwave rays—they finally forced him downwith a tranquilizer dartand a net spread below.It's not just the challengeof the ascent,that much is clearfrom his few interviews,not just a matterof testing himselfagainst the heigh