by J. Bradley


I waited for him to fall asleep before freeing my arms from where they were tethered for so long. The birds took the hint the moment my muscles trembled and flew away.

Once I got my arms to stop twitching on the street, I slithered them towards his house. I tried keeping them on the sidewalk, away from the grass; I didn’t want to smoke him out. There was enough panic from the parents keeping their children away from me, more so than usual. This has nothing to do with you, I said but they can’t or won’t hear me.

My arms crawled through the open living room window. They stopped below the couch that the man slept on. I caressed the man’s left foot to see if he’d wake up. When he didn’t, I slipped my arms through the cuffs of his sweatpants, wriggled them up his legs. Come home to me when you wake up again, I whispered to his nervous system.



J. Bradley is the author of The Adventures of Jesus Christ, Boy Detective (Pelekinesis, 2016). He lives at



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