by Kimm Brockett Stammen

The distortions preached through the dew that dapples all our mornings, and although dampening, enlivens, dance into infinite futures in front of us. No matter our population, our tribe or its number, we cannot help but follow. The twitching of our toes betrays us, the tension in the knit of our sweaters. The sighing heaves of our thighs. All these, our characteristics, spell, not defeat—never—but a proclamation of incessant, slimly-rewarded effort. Like a cobweb strung in service between the knock and a door of heaven.

Kimm Brockett Stammen‘s writings have appeared or are forthcoming in CARVE, The Greensboro Review, Pembroke Magazine, Prime Number and many others. Her work has been nominated for Pushcart and Best Short Fiction anthologies, and she won 2nd Place in Typehouse’s 2019 Fiction Contest. Before earning an MFA in Creative Writing from Spalding University in 2019, Kimm was a concert saxophonist, and spent twenty-five years performing, teaching and touring across Canada and the US.