The Sphinx’s Bride

by Rita Feinstein

Lea Kobal

Once upon a time there was a girl who was good at riddles. She solved her way across the world until she came to the mountain pass and beheld the terrible sphinx lording over his aerie of bones. His voice echoed like a fever dream, deafening, yet only in her head: if a girl is in love with her own mind, which one of them is crazy? The answer leapt into her mouth, but she bit it back, rolling it under her tongue like a morsel of raw lamb. Looking beyond his roost, she saw his fabled treasure—just a dead civilization, all its gods entombed in dust. She no longer wanted the reward. Not that reward. She sandaled closer to the great beast, gasping as his wings enfolded her like grape leaves. His eyes were the clear green of olive oil, a softness you could dip bread in. Did he take pleasure in his kills, she wondered, or was he fettered to a curse? Would the right answer doom him or cut him free? She touched his human face, his beautiful long hair. She whispered the answer in his ear.

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Rita Feinstein is the author of the poetry chapbook LIFE ON DODGE (Brain Mill Press, 2018). Her stories and poems have appeared in Permafrost, Grist, and Willow Springs, among other publications, and have been nominated for Best of the Net and Best New Poets. She is a graduate of Oregon State University’s MFA program.