In a Dream, My Dead Father Teaches Me About Sound As It Relates to Time

—after Wrecked Archive B-45HqDHfqp by Patty Paine I am inching along the Mackinac Bridge, passenger in a van.Through the frosted window, the sun is a yellow explosion,blown open, its blood a sulfur-yellow sheen that pools in thedistance on top of Lake...

Purchase an archive subscription to see the rest of this article.