Two Fictions
Matthew Salesses

Black Diamond

I stood on the slope distracted by white. Clouds clumped, and still I wore sunglasses. Nature was blinding. I wanted it to blind me. One step over, Randy unscrewed his flask, free, perhaps, for the first time since his jail stint. I breathed up all that speed ahead of me, holding it in. Randy laughed and started down; suddenly I wanted to trip him. I wanted to pity him sincerely. I wanted to blame the alcohol, and then I wanted to come clean and be forgiven.

I Didn't Know How to Parent

I took the boy to the top of a building to look down over the city. To know we could look down. He said he felt like he could blow away in the wind. I waited for more, but he was speaking literally. There was no meaning except to take his hand.