In the last weekend of June we went to the carnival. It took twenty-two days of convincing. I talked about it for months, between her and him and the mourning. I talked about cotton candy, weatherworn ticket booths, and wasted money.

I had my favorite rides. You had rides you wouldn’t go on. The zipper, the gravitron. I had questions. You had things you wouldn’t talk about; your second email account and your brother.

We compromised on the berry-go-round and the flying bobs. I was ready for it to be over until you put the regulation-sized basketball in the non-regulation hoop and we left happy, with stomachaches and an over-sized stuffed bear.

You wrapped your belt around my neck. It wasn’t a cat o’ nine tails, but it still felt strong, punishing. You fucked harder that night.

It was a joyous month.


August postapocalyptic

purgatory Afterward


Brenna Kischuk is a writer and editor with a Master of Fine Arts in Writing from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, where she was also a Teaching Fellow. Currently she is the Editorial Director of The Angle Magazine and founder and editor of online literary journal, pioneertown . Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in NOÖ Journal, theNewerYork, HTMLGIANT, Matchbook Literary Magazine, Chicago Arts Journal, Used Furniture Review, and elsewhere. Find her online at brennakischuk.com.



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