Words with Pictures
Words with Pictures is a weekly two-part post that pairs photographers and writers. The first week, a writer is given a photograph to inspire the creation of a new piece of writing. The following week the photographer is given a piece of writing and responds with a new photographic piece. This series is curated by Conveyor Editor Dominica Paige.
Evan Rehill and Dominica Paige {Part 2}
THE LEADING MAN
You know what they say about the hands and feet? None of it’s true. But what they say about the nose? It is. Listen to me talking to you. Ignore my hands and feet. Pay attention to the schnoz. All leading men lead with their noses. I wanted to be a leading man. I had a girl who said, Get your little mittens off the cantaloupes, another who said, You can’t kick into these sheets with sparrow’s feet. I said pay attention to the nose. Another said, You should get the nose fixed. I said you only fix a broken thing. She broke my nose. I cried like a prom queen. She kissed the blood from my lips. I climbed into her tiara. That was ten million years ago. Look at me now. Listen to my nose telling you what’s true.
Evan Rehill’s work has been published in Open City, American Short Fiction, Instant City, and 14 Hills. He teaches at Pratt Institute and Rutgers University. Robotic arms:{ www.evanrehill.com}
Dominica Paige works as an Editor for Conveyor and curates Words with Pictures. She wanted to get in on the fun, too. {www.dominicapaige.com}
12 Oct 2011 / 1 note / Dominica Paige Words With Pictures Evan Rehill
Words with Pictures
Words with Pictures
Words with Pictures is a weekly two-part post that pairs photographers and writers. The first week, a writer is given a photograph to inspire the creation of a new piece of writing. The following week the photographer is given a piece of writing and responds with a new photographic piece. This series is curated by Conveyor Editor Dominica Paige.
Evan Rehill and Dominica Paige {Part 1}
I could murder her right now. I just got off the graveyard. My eyes are bloodshot and sore from the cigarettes and too much coffee. There’s a rip in my stocking. My uniform has a gravy stain over the heart. I’m nineteen years old and feel dead already. I’m walking home when I see her in the vines. Two skinny legs, a plastic sword. Sixteen years old and still thinks the world is make-believe. The world will make you believe, I tell her and she looks out a window while I smoke at the kitchen table, counting tips. Then she picks up her little-kid sword and goes out slaying dragons and knights in shiny armors. A sister is a terrible thing to have. I want to go to her, fall on her sword and smack her awake already. But I don’t. I keep going through the vines, pretend she doesn’t exist.
Evan Rehill’s work has been published in Open City, American Short Fiction, Instant City, and 14 Hills. He teaches at Pratt Institute and Rutgers University. Robotic arms:{www.evanrehill.com}
Dominica Paige works as an editor for Conveyor and curates Words with Pictures. She wanted to get in on the fun, too. {www.dominicapaige.com}