A Quiet Root

We comb through hundreds of literary magazines to bring you one stellar poem or flash fiction piece every weekday.

“Centaurs in the Laundromat” by Lynn Mundell

I’ve never been good with men or horses. Too forward with one; too backward with the other. Is it too late? One by one, the washers all quit. Quiet like an audience before a performance begins. The centaur has become lost in the story. I lift armfuls of our damp laundry—my camisoles and leg warmers; his knit vests and bandanas—and amble to the dryers, stuffing them full and then feeding each from a bag of old silver coins.

Read it in The Disappointed Housewife

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