Fiction
Ingeborg Riedmaier reads “We Knew a World,” a story by Jennifer Solheim
We were out of heroin and broke. Didn’t have pills. Nothing to drink or huff. “I’ve got a plan,” I said.
We hadn’t talked since we left our West Virginia homeplace over two hours ago, both of us teary-eyed
It was around noon on a spring day in the month of May when Ms. Abedi appeared at the intersection of Shahrara and Sattar Khan Streets on the west side of Tehran.
