Rebecca Curtis Reads “Hansa and Gretyl and Piece of Shit”
The New Yorker: The Writer's Voice - New Fiction from The New Yorker
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The Cat Says, I'll Fix You
Gretel is 14, but by the blood moon, she'll be 15. She's drawn to her childhood playground. The walls are capis shells supported by ivory pillars. Rubies frame the windows. Watermelon tourmalines cover the roof. Halfway up, deep in pines, stands a cottage gleaming with light. It's decked with jewels, and ogre pears out the window.
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