When tigers used to smoke, there were houses where death didn’t come. When night fell, fog poured in from the woods, and the decrepit inhaled sweet purple steam. Cheeks smoothed as if exiting a long spa, and posture restored itself to former glory. The newly young dropped to their knees and coughed up their older selves. The newly young returned to their homes and lived another eighty years while the steam beckoned the older selves to the woods with a whistling pointer finger. At a clearing was a series of glass chambers. Inside, sudden flashes of light revealed tiger grimaces, tiger snarls, resigned exhalations of opium smoke. The older selves shrieked into the ground and blossomed as silent woodland fog.
Jeffrey H. MacLachlan also has recent work in New Ohio Review, Eleven Eleven, The William & Mary Review, among others. He teaches literature at Georgia College & State University. He can be followed on Twitter @jeffmack.
When asked which dead celebrity he would resurrect for a day, Jeffrey says, “My historical crush is Zelda Fitzgerald. Her life’s tragic finale means she’s earned a pleasurable evening in the City. I would love to discover what Zelda thinks about our century’s gentrified neoliberal paradise of New York City. I bet she’d love taking selfies at a mixology bar.”
Art — Philip King lives with his partner, cat, and two plants in Portland, Oregon. He is in the process of editing his first novel and creating his first graphic novel, and his work has been featured in the Portland State University Vanguard, Pathos Literary Magazine, Annex Zine, and Literary Brushstrokes. He has displayed work at the Saatchi Gallery in London, England, the Todd Art Gallery in Murfreesboro, Tennessee, and in Portland at the AB Gallery, the MK Gallery, the Sugar Cube, St. Johns Racquet Center, the Littman Gallery, Synesthesia Festival, NextNorthwest, Splendorporium, and the Holocene. He received a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Art Practices from Portland State University in 2016.