“When he woke, the air wore rain like a gray gown. Cahmül’s hemorrhoids felt like cinders pressed against the tender flesh of his anus, and he cried out, but there was no one but Moth to hear him. And Moth, in his way, was silent.”

A priest with IBS navigates survivor’s guilt.

Purchase a copy of Old Moon Quarterly, issue 4, spring 2023.

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long way to the ground

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Girl Or