November 3, 2019; November 4, 2018; November 5, 2017; and so on

by Chimedum Ohaegbu

November 3, 2019; November 4, 2018; November 5, 2017; and so on

this annual deprivation always makes me anticipatorily hungry: even when i’m gum-deep in grease-dappled chicken and sucking spinach from my smile, the pang strikes undeterred, a ravenousness that like a puppet’s string yanks my nose Up to sniff the air in search of sustenance. naturally there’s none—i’m salivating for something that only the sky could serve. the reason why’s a lie we all accept, yeah, but with regards to the name i remain confused: if it’s daylight savings why hasn’t anyone squirreled away a slice of light in a scrunched-up napkin, crumbs of luminescence littering their purse? or preserved it rind-to-rind with summer-supple slices of apricot so that you and i can lick the mingling syrup from our fingers, our cracking lips, and be nourished? i’m starved sensewise also, lately; it’s hard to see anything when dark’s the default and light is a brief billet-doux. if i’m lucky (i’m not) i’ll be sated, at earliest, by equinox. but never mind: til then i will drink deeply of gold and of honey, so that i might sing my own sun.

Chimedum Ohaegbu attends UBC in pursuit of hummingbird sightings and a dual degree in English literature and creative writing. She is Uncanny Magazine’s assistant editor and the recipient of the 2017 Tan Seagull Scholarship for Young Writers, and her work is published or forthcoming in Strange Horizons, This Magazine, and The Ubyssey.

Chimedum Ohaegbu

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