by Andrea Jefferson Fethi Benattallah “If I have to say it again , I’m going to spank you,” Arielle seethed at her daughter between clenched teeth. The sentence was hardly an idle threat but a promise with guillotine consequences if not taken seriously. Elise placed the strawberry Baby Bottle Pop next to the M&Ms and then held her gaze to the dingy white shoelaces draped sloppily atop her boots. That was the third store Arielle’d dragged her into to redeem coupon clippings

by Andrea Jefferson Nathan Powers for Zacarah It wouldn’t make sense to brandish our memories with false sap. Truthfully, you were a wild child; the henna dick you drew on my leg took a week to fully fade. You used to bend me over furniture and bump your crotch against my butt as if you could actually penetrate. We’d laugh. I never got back the lipsticks you stole from my room. I never knew a lock capable of keeping you out, and the universe decided, le

by Andrea Jefferson Seungwon Park At 5:00, “Amber” waves away friends: all blonde and petite like herself. All porcelain and privilege. The door shuts behind them. She unfolds her skin from the beginning of her hairline. She scratches a little, then peels with her thumbs and pointer fingers when there’s enough looseness to grip. The blonde wig slides backwards and onto the polished wooden floor. The synthetic skin divides between her front and back. Her real body seeps out in

by Andrea Jefferson Zoe/Unsplash The smell lodging from the farmer’s market is one Tim came to know roughly ten years ago when he was still a trucker. It was in Indianapolis and when the strange woman opened her legs, desperation wouldn’t allow the smell to dissuade him. She hadn’t minded his bum knee or the hair on his arms. She hadn’t minded that he only lasted five — maybe six — minutes. Now, though, as he passes through the argent bodies of dead fish, he reluctantly conti