A journal of narrative writing.
Achilles Tangled in Sheets

Listen to Achilles Tangled in Sheets read by Cyndle Plaisted Rials

The girl held is the weakness in the heel—he wails through a hole in a blanket, peels his fingernails—she smells tender and tart like an orange, bitter skin of the tongue. In his dreams he sees ripped sinews, translucent filaments of pink and red unraveling like pulled threads. He wonders who he was before this wildness, before pliers twisting wire into ruined crooked Xs. What is the center of being if not the pulling force of ligaments? Hell-bent on ignoring: that dull twinge anchored to the round meat of his calf, the side-long glance of a whisper, half nothings—all things but the arrows of her eyes, landscape of her lips, shuddering heat of her breath. The sacrifices tiptoe in; inhaling citrus, never taking another full step—the agile girl, the heel, the memory of muscle.