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Ploughshares, the literary journal (1325 words) |
 | Camel drew in the wool smell and the smell of geraniums and the smell of the river. |
| Camel stares through the canvas end of an unfinished greenhouse and watches his father lift a long-stemmed red rose and hold it up in the air, wave it at his audience of flowers, then stick the bloom into his dark mouth, extinguishing the flame without a word, eating fire in secret. |
| Camel looks down at his own arm, the two creases inside his elbow, smooth, pale skin inside his forearm, a curved ridge where a vein runs just beneath his skin, the freckles, the hair and how it's bent like grass in a breeze. |
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