Andres Aguirre

  • Coincidences

    I was driving south along I-95 late one night. There was a little less than two hours until I got home. At this distance, the highway was still unfamiliar to me. I sat still, entering and exiting the glow of the streetlights, my pupils swelling and shrinking at predictive intervals — they kept me awake. …

  • The Cure

    A boy, not more than two years old. Then, a woman. She is lifting the boy’s shirt off, and she tosses it to the ground. The ground, old rotting wood of a porch, darkens in color as the shirt lands with a splat. The boy’s arms stretch straight toward the sun, palms opening and closing…

  • Lizard

    Part 1: Egg It’s strange to possess this kind of energy again. Sertraline to acid, acid to blood, blood to body — I feel it. I have energy again — a stubborn, prickly energy to which I’ve granted full reign. There I go, moving. Climbing. Handholds have been carved into the mountainside for me. It…