The Wing Collector
I sat beside him at the local bar
We started talking about divorce
and he asked me where I was
in that process and I told him
He said, I remember those feelings
and then proceeded to show me
pictures of insect wings
that he’d collected since his divorce
He explained each of the pictures
telling me about dragonfly wings
butterfly wings
moth wings
fly wings
and wasp and bee wings
Please tell me that they’re dead
when you harvest them, I said
Of course, he said
What kind of sick fuck do you think I am?
I shrugged
My attention turned
back to my drink
and the TV
Jason Fisk lives and writes in the suburbs of Chicago. He has worked in a psychiatric unit, labored in a cabinet factory, and mixed cement for a bricklayer. www.jasonfisk.com
