Laura Sobbott Ross

For Doug Darling, it wasn’t the news you’d expected. And when you told me about it, I’d giggled, conjured images of broken symmetries— kaleidoscope and compass, magnetic poles and mirrors gone random. I knew what you were hoping for, how you’d tilted your throat back and swallowed down the void. The psychic parsing through the […]

—1979 There has to be darkness and a highway. Beyond the shoulders of the road, a topography, splayed and lit in street lamps. You’re seventeen, and Hotel California is playing on the radio. If you look close enough, you can see the silhouette of mountains beyond your own reflection in the car window. To the […]

1996 A shaft of blue splintered into a thousand nuances, shed them into the sea beneath our tiki hut— wedged on stilts into hunger clouds of shimmery fish, oysters lipping black pearls. We married there, on the shore between the neon chakra of sky & water, a handful of drowsy natives shaking New Year’s Eve […]