The Black Naught: Episode One

Heretics, Lovers, and Madmen


Birds/Bleeding Hearts

I remember lying down between cool cotton sheets at dusk, when the black naught in the corner of our once shared bedroom would yawn awake. I was always sent to bed early the night before the big trip to Tawas, even though I was old. I’d ignore the sentinel thing—it and I had an unspoken agreement—and look out the window to watch the dim white stars stir silvery blue in an inky sky. What if I could pull down the night? I’d wonder, and imagine thick wet panes falling to the earth. Other times, I’d try to hear the sound of God’s choir. A sound so awesome is something unfathomable, though, so I’d end up falling asleep to the memory-sound of your perfect breathing. I didn’t realize when you were alive that the resonance of your young lungs was far more marvelous than any song sung by…

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Published by Kindra M. Austin

Author of fiction, poetry, and very sweary social commentary. Editor, and co-founder of Indie Blu(e) Publishing. Co-founder of Blood Into Ink, and Heretics, Lovers, and Madmen.

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