Linnea Nelson

Getaway

The sound of wind but no
real wind, and me screwing

and unscrewing an aspirin bottle cap
for as long as it took us to hit

the border. Still going. Green bruises
on the horizon like a coming tornado.

Then, crabapples strewn over the gravel.
How I could feel them bursting

underneath but all I could hear
was gravel. How it wasn’t summer.

You stopped the dust-covered car
in the shade and slept while I searched

for the dog. I was thinking
that the right time to leave

is when you have seen far
enough into the future.

Once I read
If you love someone, let them

sleep. In a getaway, isn’t timing
everything? Dreaming, you said

Why are the apples so small?
When you woke you were sorry

you’d missed the whole day.
Never mind it was only

four o’clock. It took you
until night to ask about the dog.

Linnea Nelson is a writer and editor based in Richmond, Virginia. Recent and forthcoming publications of her work can be found in Seneca Review, Cirque, LIT, Rattle, and Rappahannock Review, among other journals and anthologies. A graduate of Oregon State University’s MFA program, she serves as Associate Editor for Cloudbank Books. Linnea is a Slytherin, but endeavors to be one of the good ones.
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