Scoundrel Time

Feature

Bananas for Sale

The bananas were rotting on the factory floor outside of St. Petersburg. In early October, the temperature inside the nearly abandoned building held at just above freezing, too cold for the tropical fruit. Banana skins were greying, developing dark...

Two Poems by Sarah Audsley

  Letter to the Woman Who Carried Me on the Plane You must have transported hundreds of small squirming packages from one country to another, but of course, you only remember me. I was delightful. I didn’t holler the whole way on that long...