{"id":2838,"date":"2023-07-31T06:37:55","date_gmt":"2023-07-31T10:37:55","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepetigrureview.com\/2026June\/?page_id=2838"},"modified":"2023-07-31T06:37:55","modified_gmt":"2023-07-31T10:37:55","slug":"whispers","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/thepetigrureview.com\/2627\/whispers\/","title":{"rendered":"Whispers"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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Selena Mendoza<\/h2>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
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Issue 16<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Flash Fiction<\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

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There are ghosts that follow me, that linger above, that cling to the crevices of my skin and make it their resting place. These ghosts have taken over so much that I recognize nothing when I look in the mirror. I wake up and try to ignore the beetles crawling beneath my pillow. I find worms writhing across my dirtied fingertips as I wash my hands, and I flick them off into mouths of fish in hopes of never seeing them again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Some time ago, my friends and I sat in a dark cabana illuminated only by an oil lantern. Our silhouettes danced along the picnic tables around us as we mused about the afterlife and what it would be like to become a ghost. Our laughs interrupted the faint noises of ocean waves crashing in the distance as we pondered on the places we would haunt: beaches, a college campus, a gas station bathroom, a trail tucked away between two mountains. Too focused on the spirits gnawing on my spine, I allowed silence to permeate the air as they looked to me for an answer. Perhaps these ghosts are drawn to me because I have been floating and haunting the spaces I linger in. Perhaps they are trying to whisper to me and tell me that I\u2019ve already transformed into one of them, that I\u2019ve mastered the art of invisibility as I wander through an unseen dimension that\u2019s hard to reach. Perhaps my bones have endured decades of solitude and are finally beginning to crack. Like the creatures that have long surrendered themselves to the earth, it\u2019s only a matter of time before the calcified cartilage within me collapses into dust while I hover nearby and watch. <\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

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Selena Mendoza<\/strong> (she\/her) is a recent graduate of the Master of Arts in Writing program at Coastal Carolina University where she also served as Poetry Co-Editor for Waccamaw Journal<\/em>. She is the recipient of the 27th Paul Rice Poetry Broadside Award, and her written work has been previously published in Tempo Magazine<\/em>. In her free time, she can be found organizing local open-mic events for writers, taking her dog on nature walks, and enjoying South Carolina sunsets at the beach.<\/summary>\n

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Read “The Half-Melted Ones<\/a>“<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n
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Read “Brick by Brick<\/a>“<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n
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Read “Death Roll<\/a>“<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
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Selena Mendoza Issue 16 Flash Fiction There are ghosts that follow me, that linger above, that cling to the crevices of my skin and make it their resting place. These ghosts have taken over so much that I recognize nothing when I look in the mirror. I wake up and try to ignore the beetles crawling beneath my pillow. I find worms writhing across my dirtied fingertips as I wash my hands, and I flick them off into mouths of fish in hopes of never seeing them again. Some time ago, my friends and I sat in a dark cabana illuminated only by an oil lantern. Our silhouettes danced along the picnic tables around us as we mused about the afterlife and what it would be like to become a ghost. Our laughs interrupted the faint noises of ocean waves crashing in the distance as we pondered on the places we would haunt: beaches, a college campus, a gas station bathroom, a trail tucked away between two mountains. Too focused on the spirits gnawing on my spine, I allowed silence to permeate the air as they looked to me for an answer. Perhaps these ghosts are drawn to me because I have been floating and haunting the spaces I linger in. Perhaps they are trying to whisper to me and tell me that I\u2019ve already transformed into one of them, that I\u2019ve mastered the art of invisibility as I wander through an unseen dimension that\u2019s hard to reach. Perhaps my bones have endured decades of solitude and are finally beginning to crack. Like the creatures that have long surrendered themselves to the earth, it\u2019s only a matter of time before the calcified cartilage within me collapses into dust while I hover nearby and watch. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-2838","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"aioseo_notices":[],"aioseo_head":"\n\t\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t