By Mir-Yashar Seyedbagheri

Take me off your email list, old friends proclaim. I want to share things. Electronic communion. Celebrate my life, hope for acknowledgment when I publish a story, settle into a new home. I want them to ask about the things I want. Ask how I am.

Happy, with a crooked smile.

They speak of needing to clear their inboxes. Mental health purposes. Am I something that fuels instability? Holds the weight of clutter? Perhaps I ought to clear the list. Let them feel what it means to be relegated to electronic Siberia. Friend by friend, turned acquaintance. Emptiness is better.

Mir-Yashar is a graduate of Colorado State’s MFA program in fiction. He writes to produce Nabokov’s “sob in the spine of the artist reader.”

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