by Vic Nogay
“meet me in the woods” is probably my favorite lord huron song. / sorry, i guess after six years i should start with “hello.” / hello / how have you been? / do you want to get a drink? / sorry, that’s probably a bad idea. i’m drunk already. / can i ask you some questions? / are you happy? / after all this time, has anything changed? / do you wish things were different? / do you ever think of me? / sometimes i think of you. / sometimes i even miss you. / do you still have my letters? / i used to keep yours in a little box under my bed, and i’d pull them out and read them every now and then to remember what it felt like to be free and fucking reckless and pulsing endlessly inside our secrets. / wow, sorry, that was a lot. / you know, i still have the last letter you sent me—the one with the coldplay lyrics at the end. i burned the rest, but not that one. / can you believe we used to send mail? / do you think anyone does that anymore? / if i got a p.o. box would you send me some now? / i know i only held you five or six times, but i’ll always wish it had been more. / more flesh, more truth, more everything. / yes, everything. / sure, anything. / yes, i remember. / ok / i’ll meet you there / i’ll meet you in the woods. //
Vic Nogay writes to explore her traumas, misremembrances, and Ohio, where she is from. She is an animal cruelty investigator and a mother. Her work appears in perhappened, Versification, Free Flash Fiction, Ellipsis Zine, and other journals. Twitter: @vicnogay. Read: linktr.ee/vicnogay.
Emerge Literary Journal 