BREEDING
fiction by Dymphna
featuring the photography of Eric Goen

a boy knelt before me one day, behind the grocery store where i sold pot to the football players. my mother – had she lived long enough to see me enter high school – would've understood. i was surviving. but i was also selling fire, green fire.

the silent boy put his fingers to his lips and shook his head. he glanced around nervously and pulled something out of his trousers. i felt sorry for him, kneeling there and gazing up at me, gazing at me and my fingers of fire. mesmerized, i could not look away.

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