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A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Founder & General Editor
Volume 10, Number 3, September 2016

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Arlene Ang
Spinea, Italy


The Last Fire-Eater

Time was when he had a real job. Now he fell in the same category as the unemployed, or worse, arsonists. So what if he descended from a long line of fire-eaters? The past was scorched ground around him. No one cared that when he was born, the first thing he inhaled was the smell of fuel in his father's breath. Because it is in the nature of flames to burn upward, he climbs the stairway to the terrace. The warm air in the building tags along like a cinder-block mouth rushing up to swallow him in unpaid bills. When was the last time he had water to bathe?

man on a roof
contemplating two ways out—
down and down

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