Issue #10 of The Boulevard
Spring-Summer 2013 Hawthorne Fellows
Edited by Jennifer Lauck
“Visiting hours are over,” Sima said. She moved the wheelchair to the side of the bed closest to the door; the woman stood on the other side, her arms crossed over her chest now.
“We ain’t having no visit,” Mrs. Sampson said.
Mrs. Sampson’s face was drawn, long. Her eyes were half closed. Sima stared at those eyes, as if looking at them would make them open fully so she could get a hint at what the old woman was feeling about this no-visit visitor.
American Gothic by Heide Island
"Louise’s canned goods were prized, but a trip to the canning cellar felt like a punishment. The celler felt like spooky, like a place of evil. Her fermented summer fruits and vegetables were like little princesses locked away in a dungeon."