Copyright Urban Mole 2017 I'm eight and I might be the only boy with a pigeon inside his head. It's like blowing air into empty bottles: a sound behind my eyes, as far back as my ears, but a bit more towards the top. Hu Huuuu Hu, hu hu.
Copyright Karin Mora 2016 In Italy, a tick rode a doe across a camber very early, before most commuters were up; before people knew there were deer in the city. It was safe: I was driving; I could stop; the road was clear. The doe walked like a jay in…
