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Category Archives: Excerpts from Scratching for Something

tree

There was a man who struggled with a gritty sensation in his stomach. It was not so much painful as it was strange. The skin in that place began to arc up and extend outward, hardening and transforming into woody bark. This outgrowth became so substantial that the man could no longer stand or move [...]

wings

She had been born with wings, huge magnificent dragonfly wings twelve feet in span, reflective, iridescent wings that made a thunderous, buzzing sound. She would fly with her mouth open and lips distended, gulping up songbirds and frightened sparrows. People gathered to watch for her but rarely saw her. When she did appear, she came, [...]

centipede

She had hundreds of tiny legs that she kept concealed under her clothes, and fine antennae tied back into her hair. At night she would unfurl her silky feelers and massage the air with her rippling rows of legs. Her body was segmented and she could move along the walls like a crustaceous snake. During [...]

knitting

There was a man who had hands for feet. He wore mittens for socks and walked with a skittering sideways step. During the day he collected material: strands of thread, rope and hair; things he could twist into a kind of yarn. The evenings he spent knitting with his four arms, moving like a monkey [...]

fisherwoman

There was a woman who lived in a big city, dressed like a fisherman, and went around with a net and bucket. She never left the city, but her skin had a ruddy glow, as though touched by the sun and salty wind. She would fish in open public spaces, in sidewalks and lobbies, sitting [...]

lily pad

The man saw that there was the bud of a flower growing in the palm of his hand. It was firm and pink, and when it opened there was a shy, tiny face inside. The face never spoke or smiled; it simply stared in an odd, quizzical way. The man did not know anything about [...]