The Complainer's Blood

A flea complains about the quality of the blood she drains. A man believes his saliva sanctifies ice cream. A woman drives past suffering in an air-conditioned SUV while dreaming she is the one who suffers. A predator quotes scripture as his hands do their damage. These stories don't ask you to witness horror from a safe distance. They ask what it means that the distance was never safe to begin with-that you've been participating all along. Written from positions of uncomfortable intimacy-parasites on skin, insects behind walls, children beside cooling bodies-The Complainer's Blood occupies the space between observer and accomplice. The question isn't whether you'll look away. It's whether you'll recognize what you're looking away from.