by Kymm Coveney
Amaryllis scratches the air with one buffed fingernail. “It pushes back,” she says to me. I raise an eyebrow. She rolls her eyes. “Watch,” she instructs. Her peach-glossed nail picks as if at a scab in water and again scratches the air. It seems to bend, leaves an iridescent worm of Northern Lights in its wake. She pries at a glimmer of curvature. Like an eclipse it rolls over and she is gone, swallowed by a wave of emerald tinged in jade phosphorescence. I blink. As if coaxing a spell of déjà-vu, I whisper her name. “Amy?” I blink harder.
Author bio: A translator who practices fiction at BetterLies (http://betterlies.blogspot.com.es), Kymm Coveney spent 2014 writing poems with Jo Bell’s 52 poetry group, and has had one published recently in Synaesthesia Magazine’s THUNDER, LIGHTNING issue. She’s also been reading Martin Bojowald’s Once Before Time, learning about loop quantum cosmology.
Entanglement is part of 101 Fiction issue 7.