An unusual apocalypse story, structured in segments where the main character recounts all the sexual relationships she’s ever had. As she describes the physical attributes of each man or woman, the narrator casually tosses out information about the ways in which a new virus has been spreading throughout the world. It was an unnerving story to read in 2017, and even more uncomfortable to read post-Covid (though I’d argue we’re still peri-Covid in many respects); current readers may be all too familiar with this sense of creeping unease, as well as the loneliness and despair caused by severed intimate connections.
“In the master bedroom, I caught my reflection in the vanity mirror as I rode him, and the lights were off, and our skin reflected silver from the moon and when he came in me he said, ‘Sorry, sorry.’ He died a week later, by his own hand. I moved out of the city, north.”
First published in LitHub, 2017, and collected in Her Body and Other Parties, Graywolf, 2017)
A Personal Anthology 