. . . and i found a pair of suns. one was wavering in the intense heat of the other, becoming more shadow than mirror. for that i was glad, the desire to gaze upon my own reflection is a trait absent from my dna. instead i listened to their silent conversation, quickly forgetting i was deaf, and daughter of a far more vulgar language. i feared asking their names, so i gave them my own. they took it gratefully, split it in two, setting our respective echoes free.
A.J. Huffman lives in Ormond Beach, FL. Her work is in many journals, including Labletter, The James Dickey Review, Bone Orchard, EgoPHobia, and Kritya. She has a dozen chaps out there in the world, and is founding editor of Kind of a Hurricane Press