Whitney Koo


The character  Sister has  got that  licking  baseball bat  kind of  energy.
Sister a  first testament  simple rule of  good and evil. Sister  walks  into
the  party like  pulling cat  hairs off of  dress pants.  Sister says the  only
way out is out. 70s-roller-blading-rifle-crosshairs  kind of eye shimmer.
You  could  paint  Sister  with  the  memories  of  a  winter  field.  Sister’s
skin  is  the  kind  of  soft  velvet  of  a  cartoon  deer  kind  of   sacrificial.
Sister a  masquerade  mask slid  up onto the  forehead, pins you  to  the
floor. Sister has  a doppelgänger sister which is  an  irony revealed  later
in  the  story.  The  doppelgänger  is  not  a  doppelgänger  but  a  demon
which  is  revealed  later  later  in  the story.  Sister  cannot  move  unless
directed  by  the  demon, so she  says. Sister strikes  you  over  the head
with  a  T.V.  remote.  Every  meal  Sister eats  is  an  act  of  charity. Sister
sends   a   picture   of   the   money   clip   Marilyn   Monroe   sent   to   her
makeup  artist   who  promised  to  paint   her   when   she  died.  It  reads
Whitey,  while  I’m  still  warm. You  misread  the  name  as  Whitney. You
think  it  is meant to say  goodbye. Sister is one chair left  and  someone
off  camera with  their  thumb on  the  music.  Sister  is  three  dots  on  a
screen   disappearing .   Think    of    how    small    a    keyboard    is.    That
keyboard is all you have to widen a ledge with.

Whitney Koo is the Founder and Editor in chief of Gasher Press. She holds a Ph.D. in English-Creative Writing from Oklahoma State University and an MFA in Creative Writing from CU Boulder. Her work has appeared in journals such as Colorado Review, Jet Fuel Review, American Literary Review, Heavy Feather Review, Bayou Review, and others. Originally from Arizona, Whitney currently resides in Texas with her husband, Bonhak, and their cat, Bunny. Find her at www.whitneykoo.com

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