about the author

Daniel Aristi was born in Spain. He studied French Literature as an undergrad (French Lycée in San Sebastian). He now lives and writes in Switzerland with his wife and two children. Daniel’s work is forthcoming or has been recently featured in the Queen’s Ferry Press anthology The Best Small Fictions 2016, Superstition Review, Dewpoint, and New Plains Review. Daniel is a Pushcart nominee (2015). He can be contacted at aristi.daniel@gmail.com.

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Daniel Aristi

Make wars into colored circles on a page, their surface a function f(x) of their casualties so we understand, like in them astronomy books for good boys only, though (I suppose the stars were denied to bad boys right off the bat, instead reading earthy books for Morlocks and their volcano cutouts). So, astronomy books I used to get on my birthday, happy as Spock’s human half, with a centerfold of suns, their grandeur relative to one another: Aldebaran, in orange, its fat soprano Equator barely fitting the width of the page, and our own star, an underfed yellow pea down in the corner, and the blood red Betelgeuse, so huge that only a pizza slice of her orb had made it into Meraviglie dell’Universo. By the same token make now Vietnam a jungly green marble, the Civil War a blue tennis ball, and WWI a raccoon’s skull.

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