Mr. Splitfoot

by Samantha Hunt

Probably they sniff out the Fundamentalist on him. It sticks with a person, odor of death.

“I don’t think he did, but you don't have to be dead to haunt. Parents, songs, exes.”

Ruth turns to keep me from saying anything too nice to her.

I like the privacy of walking at night and how it fuels dread and excitement.

Life and death are not clean, separate functions.”