Mitchell Blount was born in 1962 in Raleigh, North Carolina. His father is a biology professor at N.C. State University committed suicide; his mother is a homemaker in assisted living. An All- Triangle outside linebacker for Millbrook High School...
I’ve never known anything outside the silver-tinged hull of the Shalott. It floats freely in the darkness, drifting, always in gentle, steady motion. Through its thick-paned window, I watch the contents of the universe spill out before me: the...
Soldiers with carbon-fiber skin opened fire in the crowded market. The explosions came next. Staccato beats of a toy drum in the hands of madmen. Afterward, the skies opened up and sheets of rain poured down, washing away the ash. Survivors crawled...
Billie Holiday sings sweetly from the short square radio perched at the corner of my sand-colored desk. I listen to her and stare out the window at treetops and sunlight. If you were mine … I’d take you home with me on breaks and...
Their fashion is meant to intimidate, and it works—boys and girls both. Canine-like buttons on upcycled black coats that reach their knees—pants or kilts also end here so hairy, muscled calves and toughened, street-tarred feet gawk out, abrupt in...
Once more, the child began to cry. To Lt. George Maltin of the United States Space Corps, the noise seemed shriller each time. “Not again!” he bellowed, tossing and turning on his uncomfortable cot. After a couple of minutes, he leapt up, pressing...
I’m tired of these constant arrivals and departures, but you’d think being anywhere would feel better than this. How many hours had passed since the sun’s lid had dropped and the glassy moon rose like a monocle in the night’s eye when at the top of...
Baby brother, don’t worry about the world. You can fix it later. For now, bounce from trampolines to treetops to rooftops to hilltops. Sing to the stars. Shut your eyes when wars are televised. Eat apples whole—don’t worry about seeds or greed. The...
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