the chilliad
fiction
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Stories About Not Being Afraid of Ghosts
It is the last year of my great-grandmother’s life, and she believes she was born to royalty.
nonfiction
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guns: a revenge fantasy
i am here at your house, to take away your guns. i am wearing a uniform that could be nebulously FBI-adjacent, maybe an off-shoot of the NSA, maybe i bought it at a halloween costume store, you don’t know. you can’t tell. my badge has an agency listed on it but it’s blurred, slightly, so you can’t read what the letters are. but there are five of me, all identical, all scowling in that way that says I’ve Seen It All, Kid, And Your Posturing Doesn’t Mean Shit To Me. Your Tears Mean Dick To Me, Just So You Know.…
molly ofgeography 