By Justin Hunter
Sonia’s desert was a pit, carved into the clay where saguaro and sage once reigned. A hole in the ground where everything had once been. Where nothing was now.
Sonia’s desert was a reminder that anything could be taken. Permission not necessary. The things that made it the desert, the things beneath the dust, were pulled away. Stripped without a thought beyond the pleasure of the moment. The pleasure of taking something away.
Sonia’s desert wasn’t a desert anymore. It was just a pit, and Sonia threw herself in.
Bio: Justin Hunter is currently working on his MFA at Arcadia University. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Corvus Review, Down in the Dirt Magazine, and Centum Press.
Sonia would like to meet Santiago (”Alchemist”).
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