Literary Orphans

Loose Ends & The Grappling
by Charlotte Hamrick


Loose Ends

She waited an indecent amount

of time in a world where consideration

used to matter called

~Planet Earth~

still inhabited by (as far as she knew)

humans with the ability to reason, who

could understand that a question expects

an answer,  even the most obtuse

human could relate to her feeling

of being pushed down

and down

and down

his to-do list until tomorrow

or tomorrow

or tomorrow

as she waited for an answer while

his IP address skipped all over

the damn internet. Finally

she decided to forward him this:


Regarding the question I emailed

to you several times, please reply by

checking one of the following:

__ yes

__ no

__ I don’t know

__ Fuck off

O Typekey Divider

The Grappling

Loneliness grappled with my heart,

until you.

Random rides in taxicabs, city lights

reflecting through the windows onto

your face like kaleidoscope stars,

the bridge blue and silver

in the moonlight. Seamy strip joints

and bad bar karaoke became a cure

for insomnia,

later –

pink Jiyūka petals

dropping onto sheets rumpled

with love-play.


Your whispered words breath-warmed

my ear the morning of

your departure, my orchid lips

pressed into your shoulder, eyes

softened with certainty damming

threatening tears.

The grappling in my heart slowed

in that moment.

These are the first of our memories


our arms sealed the pact.

O Typekey Divider

Charlotte Hamrick’s work has appeared in several literary journals (which she still finds amazing) and is forthcoming in Camroc Press Review, Connotation Press, Blue Fifth Review, and elsewhere. She lives in New Orleans with her husband and a menagerie of furry children where every single day inspires her creativity. You can find her at


O Typekey Divider

–Art by Denis Olivier

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