OUR NEW YORK TIMES WEDDING ANNOUNCEMENT
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I live close enough to a church
whose bells are similar at six and noon. They sound like the tiniest splinter. Once, we were a wreck at the lack of mojito at an ambitious hotel in Charleston where our days congealed. I have lost my appetite since her, since brunches since the loss of her since the loss of brunches. The sea ruined my hair. She combed through glops of expensive conditioner for hours under lights housing suffocated flies. I still know what she is up to when I prank call her receiver. I close my eyes and picture her terrified, her eyebrows rising and falling with NASDAQ. I have lost her my appetite, my mojito, my splinter. In the church bells I hear then envision the wedding, the Times announcement, a blank body leading me down the aisle to no one, the empty pews, where only I am here. I whisper into the receiver it is me here, it is only me, don’t be willing to let go of your heroes. |
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Jessica Scicchitano was the nonfiction editor of Salt Hill Journal throughout her fellowship in the Syracuse University Creative Writing MFA Program. You can find some of her work in Prelude, Sixth Finch, Birdfeast, and more. Plagued by claw machines and Twin Peaks, she will always wish to co-host a show on the Home Shopping Network. She lives in Philadelphia with her three-legged cat and two-legged partner.