by Chris Clemens

Harjit slips out after midnight, down to Waterloo Park to ask difficult questions of the zoo llamas, their eyes shining like golden coins. How do I find a world where the edges are softer? Where do waterfalls of adoration spill from the heart? The llamas chew loudly, disrespectfully. Sometimes the mohawked one tries to spit on her shoes, but tonight he saunters right up to the chain-link fence and tells her to grow up, because everyone back home is depending on her success. Sniffling, Harjit returns to work on her BlackBerry business analysis. Tomorrow she will try the miniature horses.

Chris Clemens lives and teaches in Toronto, surrounded by raccoons. Nominated for Best Microfiction and Best Small Fictions, his writing appears in Invisible City, JAKE, The Dribble Drabble Review, Apex Magazine, and elsewhere.