by Sean Ennis
Coming out of the gallery, I was thinking I want to hear the sky. Was I so moved aesthetically? It’s a dumb thought, right? The art was good, but I was mainly impressed by the artist’s financial decisions—no loans. Our neighbors, the graduate students, also cannibals, packed up all their stuff and moved overnight. They always looked intellectually famished. Sadly, they had a little girl, and I bet, as man-eaters, there wasn’t a single painting hanging on the wall in that house. There was a preacher who would sermonize from outside their front gate on Sundays. Regardless, it’s all falling into place. With the cannibals gone, it’s just us and the artists on this street, and I’m cooking chickpea stew beneath a print we bought, and the sky is mainly quiet. We do eat meat, but not tonight.
After dinner, I think I might bring up the idea with Grace of committing a crime together. It would be our powerful secret like when she was first pregnant with Gabe. It would be fraud, not obvious violence. I believe in this idea. I’ll say, “Do you think we need more money?”
Sean Ennis is the author of CHASE US: Stories (Little A) and his fiction has recently appeared in Pithead Chapel, JMWW, maudlin House and Rejection Letters. More of his work can be found at seanennis.net.
