He thought of Freddy again—of how, on Easter Feast Day, the Greeks would parade down 9th Avenue led by the priests wearing their black cassocks and kalimavkions with the black veils. Jerome remembered, too, how mysterious they all were—the women especially, who’d be holding palm fronds folded into crucifixes or the unmistakable blue and white Greek flags and wearing headscarves and colorful dresses, women who seemed otherworldly compared to the girls they knew: exotic women, women with dark curled hair and olive skin, women with wide hips and large breasts that they were sure tasted like some wonderful Mediterranean fruit.
Cactus Heart Literary Magazine is a place I’ve been wanting to get into for a while now, and I’m grateful to be included in this issue. Also: This is story I wrote during my time as a UMS Artist in Residence, so I’m glad it has found a home.
You can pick up a copy of the issue for only $5—and believe me, the roster is incredible and it’s well worth the few bucks.
#SupporTheArts