A kid under a tablecloth insists heโs a ghost. A table underneath a tablecloth is, I guess, like the rest of us, only pretending to be invisible.
Richard SikenI never liked that ending either. More love streaming out the wrong way, and I don't want to be the kind that says the wrong way. But it doesn't work, these erasures, this constant refolding of the pleats. There were some nice parts, sure, all lemondrop and mellonball, laughing in silk pajamas and the grain of sugar on the toast, love love or whatever, take a number. I'm sorry it's such a lousy story.
Richard SikenI swear, I end up feeling empty, like you've taken something out of me and I have to search my body for scars.
Richard SikenSorry about the blood in your mouth. I wish it was mine. I couldn't get the boy to kill me, but I wore his jacket for the longest time.
Richard SikenFor a while I thought I was the dragon. I guess I can tell you that now. And, for a while, I thought I was the princess, cotton candy pink, sitting there in my room, in the tower of the castle, young and beautiful and in love and waiting for you with confidence but the princess looks into her mirror and only sees the princess, while Iโm out here, slogging through the mud, breathing fire, and getting stabbed to death. Okay, so Iโm the dragon. Big deal. You still get to be the hero. You get magic gloves! A fish that talks! You get eyes like flashlights!
Richard Siken