By Ben Greenman
from forthcoming collection, as yet untitled
Four people (names unknown) were abducted from a house (address unknown) on Wednesday (date unknown). A page was found at the crime scene, apparently ripped from a diary or journal. It had only a short paragraph rendered in blue ink:
Dunkirk to Paris, jog left for Ghent, no, too far, but I can make Lens, right? The mirror in the car has been polished to a shine, and yet I still cannot see that it is me in there, not even when I squint. In Lens a woman is standing outside a small grocery and a dog almost as large as her has his paws up on the wall as if the two of them are schoolmates on a break from an exam. In Ghent there’s a young boy, maybe not even as old as the girl, holding a guitar that has no case. Neither the boy or the girl is in the trunk. I never went to Ghent. I never even went to Lens. I am looking in the mirror at a liar’s eyes.
It was unclear who wrote it or if it fact it had ever even been written.
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