Splinter by Buffy Shutt

He says Take this—to measure the blue.

She says Take these two pickles. Bread and butter. Yum. Oh, and this skinned kneecap.

That’s two things. Take this jar. I put a star in it.

Take this little—well, this big piece of sulk. I’ve been saving it for you. I sprinkled some on your vegan lasagna. It’s probably freezer-furred by now.

Take this sleep mask. A bit stretched out. And these… One, two… seven bulbs. Irises. I’ve been keeping them in the dark for you.

Here, take these—the four texts I stole off your phone.

You did? Good thief. Here, take the table of contents. For the novel.

Here are some earbuds your friend Tom left one night. Here take this…

Hang on. It’s my turn, isn’t it?

Yeah. Here…take this. I found it in the backyard.

It looks dead. It’s dead, isn’t it?

Buffy Shutt lives in Los Angeles where she writes poetry and short fiction. A former marketing executive of movies and documentaries, Buffy now writes and collaborates full time. A two-time Pushcart and Best of the Net nominee, her work appears in Lumina, Whatever Keeps The Lights On, Words for the Wild, Dodging the Rain, Split Lip Magazine, Anthropocene, What Rough Beast. She was awarded the Cobalt Review’s prize for their baseball issue. Find Buffy at @BuffyShutt.