Jennifer Ruth Jackson

She weeps, waters the cornfield while cackling
pilots swoop stalks for citrine pebbles. She will
not move as beaks graze her broom-stiff hair.
White dress crunches like footsteps on gravel,
flakes of age and blood pelt her legs. Feathers
festoon her shoulders, unnoticed. Her head
rests in slender hands held at chest level.
She awaits the workers in the mid-day sun.

JENNIFER RUTH JACKSON writes about reality’s weirdness and the plausibility of the fantastic. Her work has appeared in Strange Horizons, Star*Line, Apex Magazine, and more. She runs a blog for disabled and neurodivergent creatives called The Handy, Uncapped Pen from an apartment she shares with her husband. Visit her on Twitter: @jenruthjackson.