Size / / /

We only talk now on growing days—

Dad checks my span and shoots me up.

I burst from his embrace

spread new pinfeathers,

go leaping through the lab—

last night I hurdled nine cages of chimps.

He wants me to behave,

submit to another of his five zillion tests

but his moldy ideas are holding me up.

Stripping off my dress I run

naked as a jaybird, swift

as a falcon.

He can't cage me; I'm his little chickypoo.

Outside the lab there are boys, there are birds—

teary threats won't ground me

forever. I am clawed as an eagle

savage as a kite

and I will fly.




Tina Connolly (tinaconnolly@gmail.com) is a writer and face painter in Portland, Oregon. Her stories and poems have appeared here in Strange Horizons, as well as in Podcastle, GUD, and Beneath Ceaseless Skies. This story was inspired by an exercise at Ellen Klages' 2009 workshop at Hugo House in Seattle. Tina has a website at http://tinaconnolly.com.
Current Issue
4 Nov 2024

“Did you know,” the witch says, “that a witch has no heart of her own?”
Outsiders, Off-worlders {how quickly one carves out a corner of the cosmos, / claims a singular celestial body as [o u r s] in the scope of infinity}
Lunar enby folks across here
Wednesday: The 2024 Ignyte Award for Best Novel Shortlist, Part Two 
Friday: A Place Between Waking and Forgetting by Eugen Bacon 
Issue 28 Oct 2024
Issue 21 Oct 2024
By: KT Bryski
Podcast read by: Devin Martin
Issue 14 Oct 2024
Issue 7 Oct 2024
By: Christopher Blake
Podcast read by: Emmie Christie
Issue 30 Sep 2024
Issue 23 Sep 2024
By: LeeAnn Perry
Art by: nino
Issue 16 Sep 2024
Issue 9 Sep 2024
Issue 2 Sep 2024
Issue 26 Aug 2024
Load More