Gingerbread House Lit Mag


She places the muscle on the worn table. Each chunk of flesh separated by a few inches. Wipes her hands on her canvas apron and dips her fingers into the powder jars— a dash of ground liquorice, willow, and ginger. She opens a barrel and finds the tears have pickled quite nicely.

Each piece goes into the barrel and she closes the lid. She does this, day in and day out. Her business is not souls, no, she doesn’t peddle in that.

She peddles in hearts.

Red hearts, black hearts, half hearts, full hearts.

Her delicate hands stretch the leather that encases the glass. Places each heart in each jar and wraps the leather cords around the fabric lids, allowing them to breathe. After she’s finished a batch she turns a sign over on her front door, revealing her garnet slogan:

Fill the emptiness inside.

Then, she waits for her customers to come.

Ellen Tremiti

Ellen Tremiti is a writer, filmmaker, and crafter living in Los Angeles, CA. While attending Emerson College, she received an EVVY Award for Outstanding Nonfiction Prose, and her writing has also advanced at the Austin Film Festival in their teleplay competition. She was a Story Supervisor for Warner Bros. and now daydreams at DreamWorks Animation.

Artwork: Iren Horrors, Gears of my Heart

This entry was published on January 31, 2019 at 12:06 am and is filed under 34 (January 2019), Poetry. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.
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