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Disturbed Sleep
What would we know if we didn’t know anything? M. Kaat Toy’s flash fiction book DISTURBED SLEEP asks. The answer? More than we do now. These fifty-four stories overheard, transcribed, experienced, invented, and inspired by myths, tales, literature, history, and research provide original perspectives on the facts of everyday life and the possibilities of alternate realities. Grouped in six themed sections, they depict the natural world, relationships, and spirituality in lyrical prose.
74 pages, Paperback
First published June 25, 2013
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March 14, 2018
We are the publisher, so all of our authors get five stars from us. Excerpts:
BLACKNESS BEHIND LIGHT
It’s not just the red grapes of my poverty I eat unobserved at Walmart or the unmistakable charisma of cherries tasted up close for their blackness behind their light. It’s not just that everything is connected except when it’s not, the way flakes of past glimpses of you flutter down like a planeload of fool’s gold exploding through the barriers of noise you make to hold yourself up to your blackness behind your light. It’s just that elliptically oblique is the most hopeful way to see the world or how I hope it sees me with my rogue impeccability when occasionally my blackness hides behind my light.
GALLERY TALK
“The heads are useless,” the painter explains. “They don’t work anymore. So I gather around me friends from the natural world—flowers relieved of their vibrancy; seedpods dried and broken open; bones of animals from air, water, and land. They bring me the news—releasing me from personal history like the flood that washed through my studio. A shriving. Every day I put the news down in shrines that celebrate not making but that which is already made—made for us. They emanate energy. Great beings of light here to help us remember what we are and who we are show themselves—the interface between the possible and the impossible.”
BLACKNESS BEHIND LIGHT
It’s not just the red grapes of my poverty I eat unobserved at Walmart or the unmistakable charisma of cherries tasted up close for their blackness behind their light. It’s not just that everything is connected except when it’s not, the way flakes of past glimpses of you flutter down like a planeload of fool’s gold exploding through the barriers of noise you make to hold yourself up to your blackness behind your light. It’s just that elliptically oblique is the most hopeful way to see the world or how I hope it sees me with my rogue impeccability when occasionally my blackness hides behind my light.
GALLERY TALK
“The heads are useless,” the painter explains. “They don’t work anymore. So I gather around me friends from the natural world—flowers relieved of their vibrancy; seedpods dried and broken open; bones of animals from air, water, and land. They bring me the news—releasing me from personal history like the flood that washed through my studio. A shriving. Every day I put the news down in shrines that celebrate not making but that which is already made—made for us. They emanate energy. Great beings of light here to help us remember what we are and who we are show themselves—the interface between the possible and the impossible.”
Displaying 1 of 1 review