Missed Connections was recently republished in Smokelong’s Quarterly Issue along with an interview conducted by Shelly Weathers. Read it here: http://www.smokelong.com/smoke-and-mirrors-an-interview-with-kevin-hatch/
Now readable at http://www.smokelong.com/missed-connections/
Read them now at Vanilla Sex magazine.
The Devil sent me flowers. Or at least I think it was him. He’s been following me for weeks trying to get my attention. He keeps slipping notes into my bag, and I find little heart shapes cut from Bible pages under my pillow. He tries to read text messages over my shoulder. He found my blog and once he figured out I liked Victorian Lit he got a passage from Wuthering Heights tattooed on his arm. One day, he will pin me down and try to take my soul. I’ll look into his eyes, tell him I love him, and rip out his spinal column.
This is me: smiling,
ballooning with joy,
holding a balled up pair of socks
pretending my dead dog is still alive.
I can walk through a cemetery with little emotion. It is just corpse storage.
When I lose my keys, the last place I go to find them is where they are.
When you die you become the lint on your old bedsheets. You become your deployed airbag and torn upholstery. You become your bedroom. Or you become a tiny sign on the side of a road.
Sometimes when you die you sit inside someone else’s chest. You move some furniture in, rearrange the place. Make it crowded. You maybe try to speak to them, put your hands on their lungs in a gesture of empathy, but it just makes it harder for the air to get in.