Poem by Julie Herman
In Mike’s house, cold trickles down the attic stairs, invades the hall. Lights turn on, and off no one’s hand touches the switch on the wall. Water runs hot then cold then scalding again. Branches skritch against the siding at midnight... one a.m., and two... This is one Air B&B that won’t be getting a five star review.
Julie Herman lives west of Austin, where the creature who lurks in the canyon frequently howls. She holds an MFA from VCFA WCYA.
