An Unkindness of Ghosts

by Rivers Solomon

“Perhaps because I’m not a man at all.” He sat closer now. The sheets wrinkled as he scooted himself toward her. “Aye. You gender-malcontent. You otherling,” she said, the fog of anesthesia wearing off. She could see him clearly now. The curl of his lashes. The white flecks of skin over his dry lips. “Me too. I am a boy and a girl and a witch all wrapped into one very strange, flimsy, indecisive body. Do you think my body couldn’t decide what it wanted to be?”