[et_pb_section fb_built=”1″ _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” text_font=”Advent Pro||||||||” text_text_color=”#000000″ global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section][et_pb_section fb_built=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” custom_margin=”||-2px|||” custom_padding=”0px||0px|||” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” custom_padding=”0px|||||” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” text_font=”Josefin Slab|500|||||||” text_text_color=”#000000″ text_font_size=”18px” text_line_height=”1.1em” custom_padding=”|0px||0px||” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n The last time I saw my brother, Jay, a comet seared the night sky. I\u2019m not saying the two things are connected, that the shit we did that night was cosmically important. But sometimes I wonder.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 That night, we met in the skatepark after dark. Johnny lugged bags bulging with bottles of lighter fluid, pants sliding down his thighs. Dominic arrived with weed and torch lighters stolen from 7-Eleven. I supplied a forty, also stolen from 7-Eleven. Kim and Amy brought Cheetos. Jay arrived last with a quilt.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWhat the hell, bro?\u201d I punched his shoulder.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cJust in case,\u201d he said. \u201cTo smother or\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cOk, Mom,\u201d Dominic said. I snorted.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cFuck off,\u201d Jay said. He looked away and then nervously up at the comet.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 We all did, unusually quiet, as we passed the malt liquor around, hiding the burn.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Billions of eyes tracked that comet across the sky for eighteen months. It was the one that birthed a generation of astronomers, that inspired awe and fear and longing. The one that prompted our dad to buy a telescope before he left our mom with nothing. The one we looked up at when we snuck out into the back yard to smoke weed. The one that jammed the budding Internet. That prompted a cult in California to commit suicide, hoping to hitch a ride off this dying planet. The end of the world was on everyone\u2019s minds at the close of the millennium. We had been talking about fire for weeks. A wild pack on the hunt, we were primed by the crackle and fizz of the comet.<\/p>\n ***<\/p>\n Johnny pulled a mini vodka from his pocket, took a gulp, lit a torch, and blew a spray of fire.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I tripped as I side-stepped the plume that lit up our faces. \u201cShit, dude.\u201d<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The girls shrieked and laughed.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Jay brushed his spiked tips. \u201cDude, you singed my hair.\u201d<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Johnny was coughing, doubled over, hands on his knees. Then he was laughing, loud and ferocious. \u201cI think I scorched my tongue. Is it black?\u201d He stuck it out, wriggled it in the comet-light.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 We should have stopped then. Called it and gone home.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cLet\u2019s light shit up!\u201d I said. I sprayed lighter fluid onto the bottom of my skateboard, torched it, and dipped into the pit. Flames darted up around my sneakers. Gaining speed, I flew up the other side, spun an airborne 360, and hit the downslope in a shower of flame and sparks. Dominic hollered. Jay grinned. Shadow and light flickered across his face as he lit a cigarette clenched in his teeth.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cFuck yeah!\u201d Johnny yelled, sweeping past me on his flaming board.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I did a crooked grind on a curb, whizzing close to the girls who had retreated to sit on a pile of wood chips beside the ramps. They licked Cheeto-slicked fingers and shivered in tank tops. Their glinting eyes and bare shoulders emboldened us.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cDom, Jay, c\u2019mon!\u201d I called.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cAlright, alright,\u201d Jay said, touching his cigarette to the bottom of his lighter fluid-soaked board.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 We soared through the night like demons. Our feet had wings of fire. Flames grazed our ankles and rolled in hungry swirls beneath our boards.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 High above us, somewhere in the cold void of space, ice fractured and splintered, falling, streaming, steaming behind the comet speeding at 100,000 miles per hour toward the sun. Separated by 120 million miles, we were connected by speed, by gravity.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 We lit the entire rim of the half pipe and bet on who could grind the farthest. We jumped on flaming rails. Frayed hems were scorched. Rubber soles singed. We crisscrossed, jumped fire, rolled through fire, sped up seared ramps and along hot pipes. We drank, we smoked, we hollered. Fire burned in our eyes.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Between one backflip and the downslope, sparks must have soared into a low branch of the eucalyptus trees along the skatepark\u2019s edge. The girls stood and were shouting something I couldn\u2019t hear over the crunch of grinding skateboards and our feral laughter. Between one scorched grind and the next kick-flip, I saw the wood chips flare. Between one sharp breath and the next, we sobered on the choke of acrid smoke. I skidded to a stop and grabbed my skateboard from under my feet as we began to scatter.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The sound of sirens rose behind the crackle of flames. The girls were gone. Johnny disappeared over a fence. Dominic headed up North Street and down an alley. At the edge of the park, I turned back to look for Jay.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 He was still on the ramp, caught between the flaming wood chips and the trees that stretched toward the sky like torches.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Fuck.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cJay!\u201d I yelled above the snapping fire. \u201cC\u2019mon!\u201d<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 He looked at me across the wall of flame. His eyes were frantic and glowing.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cRun! You can make it!\u201d<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 A burning eucalyptus branch snapped and crashed onto the ramp. Jay stilled as fire circled him. He pulled the quilt around himself like a cape and looked up, up, up at the cold burn of the comet. At his feet, a tongue of fire and sparks leapt high as a lighter fluid can exploded. I shielded my face. When I looked again, Jay was gone.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Sirens wailed closer. The blaze reached skyward.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I yelled Jay\u2019s name again and again and again. I choked. Heat seared my lungs, sharp, deep, like something was being excised.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Blue and red lights mixed with the orange glow.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I ran.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n The police never found him, never found a body, never found the quilt. They told my parents he probably ran away. Were there problems at home? Was he depressed? Did he do drugs? Teenagers run away all the time, they said. He\u2019ll come back, they said.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 He didn\u2019t come back.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The comet disappeared shortly after. It sped past the sun, which flung it deep into space.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Our wildfire pack splintered, drifted apart. My dad signed divorce papers and moved to California. Mom moved us to Colorado for a job or an aunt or a new start. I didn\u2019t care. There\u2019s always risk in caring.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Now, decades later, on another night, with another comet streaming above, green-hued and sharp, I stand beside the rebuilt skate ramp. Successive generations of teenagers have etched it with scrapes, skid marks, and graffiti, but no scorch marks. I kneel on the ground, brushing aside sharp-smelling wood chips and dirt, looking for a buried layer of ash. But time erased all evidence of fire here. My knees ache. I\u2019ve been pulled back here by a longing as relentless as gravity.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I look up.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cBring him back,\u201d I say to the comet. It\u2019s the wrong comet, I know. The right comet, Jay\u2019s comet, won\u2019t return until the year 4385.<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” custom_padding=”0px|||||” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” text_font=”Josefin Slab||||||||” text_text_color=”#000000″ text_font_size=”16px” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n Amethyst Loscocco<\/strong> is a multi-genre writer. Her work has appeared in The Pinch<\/i>, Electric Literature<\/i>, Gone Lawn<\/i>, Tiny Molecules<\/i>, Catamaran<\/i>, and elsewhere. She was a finalist for the 2024 Page Prize in Creative Nonfiction. She has an MA in Science Writing from Johns Hopkins University. She lives in Oakland, California. Find her online at amethystloscocco.com<\/a> and on social media @amethyst_writes.\u00a0<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row column_structure=”1_3,1_3,1_3″ _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” custom_margin=”|auto|-100px|auto||” custom_padding=”0px||0px|||” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”1_3″ _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_image src=”https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/08\/Color-Print-Logo-with-full-text-1.jpg”<\/a>; title_text=”Color-Print-Logo-with-full-text-1″ _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” positioning=”relative” vertical_offset=”50px” global_colors_info=”{}”][\/et_pb_image][\/et_pb_column][et_pb_column type=”1_3″ _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_image src=”https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/08\/ncwn-logo.jpg”<\/a>; title_text=”ncwn-logo” _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” positioning=”relative” vertical_offset=”50px” global_colors_info=”{}”][\/et_pb_image][\/et_pb_column][et_pb_column type=”1_3″ _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_signup provider=”mailpoet” mailpoet_list=”Variant Literature|3″ title=”Subscribe to our Newsletter” _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” form_field_background_color=”#000000″ form_field_text_color=”#FFFFFF” header_text_align=”center” header_text_color=”#000000″ background_color=”#FFFFFF” custom_button=”on” button_text_color=”#000000″ button_bg_color=”#FFFFFF” button_border_width=”6px” button_border_color=”#000000″ button_border_radius=”20px” global_colors_info=”{}”][\/et_pb_signup][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” custom_padding=”81px||4px|||” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n \u00a9 Variant Literature Inc 2023<\/em><\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" We Blazed Amethyst Loscocco \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0The last time I saw my brother, Jay, a comet seared the night sky. I\u2019m not saying the two things are connected, that the shit we did that night was cosmically important. But sometimes I wonder. \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 That night, we met in the skatepark after dark. Johnny lugged […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":159740934,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"on","_et_pb_old_content":" [et_pb_section fb_built=\"1\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_row _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_column type=\"4_4\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_text _builder_version=\"4.21.0\" _module_preset=\"default\" text_font=\"Advent Pro||||||||\" text_text_color=\"#000000\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"]<\/p> \u00a0<\/span><\/p> [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section][et_pb_section fb_built=\"1\" _builder_version=\"4.21.0\" _module_preset=\"default\" custom_margin=\"||-2px|||\" custom_padding=\"0px||0px|||\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_row _builder_version=\"4.21.0\" _module_preset=\"default\" custom_padding=\"0px|||||\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_column type=\"4_4\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_text _builder_version=\"4.21.0\" _module_preset=\"default\" text_font=\"Josefin Slab|500|||||||\" text_text_color=\"#000000\" text_font_size=\"18px\" text_line_height=\"1.1em\" custom_padding=\"|0px||0px||\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"]<\/p> Ever since I met Josh, Zizzi has been on my mind.<\/p> \u201cSorry for the mess.\u201d Josh opened the door and waved me in. The one-room bedsit had high ceilings and big windows. Small but cozy. For a single man\u2019s den, the flat was surprisingly tidy.<\/p> Josh was an artist. Brown, curly hair and hazel eyes. We\u2019d both swiped right on Grindr, exchanged mobile numbers, then met up at the Vic for a proper first date. After a couple pints, Josh suggested we retire to his flat. I was slightly reluctant at first. I\u2019d anticipated the invitation to come much later, perhaps after a couple of meetings. But Josh seemed like a nice guy, and I didn\u2019t want to miss this opportunity. I nodded.<\/p> He smiled, revealing neatly aligned teeth.<\/p> I sat down on the two-seater opposite a bookcase. Large art books with colorful pictures adorned the shelves. The sofa seemed disproportionally large for the small flat.<\/p> \u201cYou might want to take off your jacket,\u201d Josh said, \u201cif you don\u2019t want it to get covered with hair.\u201d<\/p> \u201cHair?\u201d<\/p> \u201cDid I tell you I\u2019ve got a cat? I hope you\u2019re not allergic.\u201d<\/p> I shook my head. Josh continued: \u201cHis name\u2019s Zizzi. You\u2019ll probably never meet him, though. He\u2019s a shy boy.\u201d<\/p> I looked around. Not a feline in sight.<\/p> I removed my black woolen jacket and handed it to Josh. I still wasn\u2019t sure of my decision to come to a stranger\u2019s flat on a first date. For a single gay man living in a small town, online is the only way to meet potential dates. But given the dangers involved, it\u2019s hard to trust these strangers. I recently read about a Grindr murderer who drugged all his dates before killing them. True story\u2014it gave me goosebumps. I\u2019d been on the bus, scrolling through the news on my phone. Had to look around, in case anyone nearby seemed suspicious. It took a long time to chase the thoughts from my mind.<\/p> The room was freezing.<\/p> Josh hung my coat on the rack beside the door and fiddled with the electric heater.<\/p> \u201cThe landlord says this is a listed building, and that they\u2019re not allowed to install double-glazed windows and gas central heating. It\u2019s a lame excuse to save money, really.\u201d<\/p> I shrugged. \u201cThey can get away with murder.\u201d<\/p> I fixed my eyes on the heater. Found the warm, orange glow it emitted mesmerizing. My hands were ice cold, fingers stiff, body tense.<\/p> I noticed some framed butterfly specimens hanging on the wall. Pinned as they were, they seemed quite vulnerable. \u201cDo you like butterflies?\u201d<\/p> \u201cYes. I find them pretty.\u201d<\/p> \u201cThey remind me of The Silence of the Lambs<\/i>.\u201d I immediately regretted saying this.<\/p> \u201cAre you suggesting I\u2019m a serial killer?\u201d<\/p> \u201cSorry,\u201d I blushed, swallowed. \u201cI didn\u2019t mean it.\u201d<\/p> He chuckled. \u201cWell, let me show you how I kill men.\u201d<\/p> Josh sat down and put his arm around my neck. His stubbled face brushed my cold cheeks. His breath whiskey-bitter. I closed my eyes and opened my mouth to let his wet tongue slide in.<\/p> The flat had warmed and we were naked in bed, panting and sweating.<\/p> \u201cCan I take a shower?\u201d<\/p> \u201cOf course. But watch out for the cat litter.\u201d I moved slowly in the dark, feeling the way with my feet. The door knob stuck, rattled in my hands. \u201cIt\u2019s a bit late,\u201d he said, quietly. \u201cYou can stay tonight if you like.\u201d<\/p> It was a tempting invitation. I hesitated for a few seconds, then nodded. In the bathroom, I fumbled for the light switch. Found the chain and pulled. There, on the tiled floor beneath the wash basin, was a blue tray filled with white crystals.<\/p> The shower was nearly scalding. I stood in the tub and shivered. The water turned my flesh red before swirling down the drain at my feet. The shower curtain was opaque. Anything could\u2019ve been happening on the other side. I stared at the eddy a long time.<\/p> Out and dry, I climbed back into bed. \u201cI believe you. Zizzi exists!\u201d<\/p> \u201cOf course he does! When will you start trusting me?\u201d<\/p> \u201cIt\u2019s our first time, you know.\u201d I tried to hide my embarrassment. \u201cWhy doesn\u2019t he come out?\u201d<\/p> \u201cHe was a stray. I found him near the refuse room and brought him home. He always hides from visitors. He must\u2019ve experienced something traumatic.\u201d Josh scrunched his pillow and rolled over to face me. \u201cI\u2019m the only person he trusts.\u201d<\/p> \u201cDo you have many visitors?\u201d<\/p> \u201cI\u2019ve got a few friends.\u201d His hand smoothed the wrinkles in the comforter. \u201cSince breaking up with my ex, I\u2019ve had some dates.\u201d<\/p> So, I was only one<\/i> of Josh\u2019s dates. The idea of him seeing other men made me jealous, though I had no right to expect otherwise.<\/p> He pulled me close to spoon. His body was smooth, his breath soothing, and I fell quickly asleep.<\/p> In the middle of the night, I awakened to movement. Something was touching my face. Warm.Fluffy. Prickly, even. My thoughts ran to The Silence of the Lambs<\/i>. Chills shot down my spine.<\/p> I forced my eyes open. The light coming through the half-drawn curtain revealed a small, black creature with one paw on my pillow.<\/p> Hello Zizzi, I thought.<\/p> Zizzi inspected my face and I returned his gaze. His green eyes glistened, curious.<\/p> I relaxed my lips into a smile, as if to reassure that I meant no harm. The trick worked. Slowly, Zizzi stretched his legs and lay his head down. I felt the fur on his stomach, rubbed it gently. The room filled with a continuous purring.<\/p> On the other side of the bed, Josh slept unaware. His face was calm. He had long eyelashes.<\/p> From behind their glass panes, the butterflies beamed.<\/p> \u00a0<\/p> [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=\"4.21.0\" _module_preset=\"default\" custom_padding=\"0px|||||\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_column type=\"4_4\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_text _builder_version=\"4.21.0\" _module_preset=\"default\" text_font=\"Josefin Slab||||||||\" text_text_color=\"#000000\" text_font_size=\"16px\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"]<\/p> [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row column_structure=\"1_3,1_3,1_3\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" custom_margin=\"|auto|-100px|auto||\" custom_padding=\"0px||0px|||\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_column type=\"1_3\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_image src=\"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/08\/Color-Print-Logo-with-full-text-1.jpg\" title_text=\"Color-Print-Logo-with-full-text-1\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" positioning=\"relative\" vertical_offset=\"50px\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][\/et_pb_image][\/et_pb_column][et_pb_column type=\"1_3\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_image src=\"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/08\/ncwn-logo.jpg\" title_text=\"ncwn-logo\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" positioning=\"relative\" vertical_offset=\"50px\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][\/et_pb_image][\/et_pb_column][et_pb_column type=\"1_3\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_signup provider=\"mailpoet\" mailpoet_list=\"Variant Literature|3\" title=\"Subscribe to our Newsletter\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" form_field_background_color=\"#000000\" form_field_text_color=\"#FFFFFF\" header_text_align=\"center\" header_text_color=\"#000000\" background_color=\"#FFFFFF\" custom_button=\"on\" button_text_color=\"#000000\" button_bg_color=\"#FFFFFF\" button_border_width=\"6px\" button_border_color=\"#000000\" button_border_radius=\"20px\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][\/et_pb_signup][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" custom_padding=\"81px||4px|||\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_column type=\"4_4\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_text _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"]<\/p> \u00a9 Variant Literature Inc 2023<\/em><\/p> [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section]<\/p>","_et_gb_content_width":"","_coblocks_attr":"","_coblocks_dimensions":"","_coblocks_responsive_height":"","_coblocks_accordion_ie_support":"","_crdt_document":"","advanced_seo_description":"","jetpack_seo_html_title":"","jetpack_seo_noindex":false,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-7574","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/PdfuLj-1Ya","amp_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/7574","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/159740934"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=7574"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/7574\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7745,"href":"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/7574\/revisions\/7745"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=7574"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}\u00a0<\/span><\/h3>\n
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Zizzi<\/strong><\/h1>
Hongwei Bao<\/h3>
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![https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/08\/Color-Print-Logo-with-full-text-1.jpg”<\/a>; title_text=”Color-Print-Logo-with-full-text-1″ _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” positioning=”relative” vertical_offset=”50px” global_colors_info=”{}”][\/et_pb_image][\/et_pb_column][et_pb_column type=”1_3″ _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_image src=”](\"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/08\/Color-Print-Logo-with-full-text-1.jpg”\"){kind=link}
![https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/08\/ncwn-logo.jpg”<\/a>; title_text=”ncwn-logo” _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” positioning=”relative” vertical_offset=”50px” global_colors_info=”{}”][\/et_pb_image][\/et_pb_column][et_pb_column type=”1_3″ _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_signup provider=”mailpoet” mailpoet_list=”Variant Literature|3″ title=”Subscribe to our Newsletter” _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” form_field_background_color=”#000000″ form_field_text_color=”#FFFFFF” header_text_align=”center” header_text_color=”#000000″ background_color=”#FFFFFF” custom_button=”on” button_text_color=”#000000″ button_bg_color=”#FFFFFF” button_border_width=”6px” button_border_color=”#000000″ button_border_radius=”20px” global_colors_info=”{}”][\/et_pb_signup][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” custom_padding=”81px||4px|||” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n\u00a9 Variant Literature Inc 2023<\/em><\/p>\n[\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"We Blazed Amethyst Loscocco \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0The last time I saw my brother, Jay, a comet seared the night sky. I\u2019m not saying the two things are connected, that the shit we did that night was cosmically important. But sometimes I wonder. \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 That night, we met in the skatepark after dark. Johnny lugged […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":159740934,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"on","_et_pb_old_content":"[et_pb_section fb_built=\"1\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_row _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_column type=\"4_4\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_text _builder_version=\"4.21.0\" _module_preset=\"default\" text_font=\"Advent Pro||||||||\" text_text_color=\"#000000\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"]<\/p>Zizzi<\/strong><\/h1>Hongwei Bao<\/h3>\u00a0<\/span><\/h3>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\u00a0<\/span><\/h3>\u00a0<\/span><\/h3>[\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section][et_pb_section fb_built=\"1\" _builder_version=\"4.21.0\" _module_preset=\"default\" custom_margin=\"||-2px|||\" custom_padding=\"0px||0px|||\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_row _builder_version=\"4.21.0\" _module_preset=\"default\" custom_padding=\"0px|||||\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_column type=\"4_4\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_text _builder_version=\"4.21.0\" _module_preset=\"default\" text_font=\"Josefin Slab|500|||||||\" text_text_color=\"#000000\" text_font_size=\"18px\" text_line_height=\"1.1em\" custom_padding=\"|0px||0px||\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"]<\/p>Ever since I met Josh, Zizzi has been on my mind.<\/p>\u201cSorry for the mess.\u201d Josh opened the door and waved me in. The one-room bedsit had high ceilings and big windows. Small but cozy. For a single man\u2019s den, the flat was surprisingly tidy.<\/p>Josh was an artist. Brown, curly hair and hazel eyes. We\u2019d both swiped right on Grindr, exchanged mobile numbers, then met up at the Vic for a proper first date. After a couple pints, Josh suggested we retire to his flat. I was slightly reluctant at first. I\u2019d anticipated the invitation to come much later, perhaps after a couple of meetings. But Josh seemed like a nice guy, and I didn\u2019t want to miss this opportunity. I nodded.<\/p>He smiled, revealing neatly aligned teeth.<\/p>I sat down on the two-seater opposite a bookcase. Large art books with colorful pictures adorned the shelves. The sofa seemed disproportionally large for the small flat.<\/p>\u201cYou might want to take off your jacket,\u201d Josh said, \u201cif you don\u2019t want it to get covered with hair.\u201d<\/p>\u201cHair?\u201d<\/p>\u201cDid I tell you I\u2019ve got a cat? I hope you\u2019re not allergic.\u201d<\/p>I shook my head. Josh continued: \u201cHis name\u2019s Zizzi. You\u2019ll probably never meet him, though. He\u2019s a shy boy.\u201d<\/p>I looked around. Not a feline in sight.<\/p>I removed my black woolen jacket and handed it to Josh. I still wasn\u2019t sure of my decision to come to a stranger\u2019s flat on a first date. For a single gay man living in a small town, online is the only way to meet potential dates. But given the dangers involved, it\u2019s hard to trust these strangers. I recently read about a Grindr murderer who drugged all his dates before killing them. True story\u2014it gave me goosebumps. I\u2019d been on the bus, scrolling through the news on my phone. Had to look around, in case anyone nearby seemed suspicious. It took a long time to chase the thoughts from my mind.<\/p>The room was freezing.<\/p>Josh hung my coat on the rack beside the door and fiddled with the electric heater.<\/p>\u201cThe landlord says this is a listed building, and that they\u2019re not allowed to install double-glazed windows and gas central heating. It\u2019s a lame excuse to save money, really.\u201d<\/p>I shrugged. \u201cThey can get away with murder.\u201d<\/p>I fixed my eyes on the heater. Found the warm, orange glow it emitted mesmerizing. My hands were ice cold, fingers stiff, body tense.<\/p>I noticed some framed butterfly specimens hanging on the wall. Pinned as they were, they seemed quite vulnerable. \u201cDo you like butterflies?\u201d<\/p>\u201cYes. I find them pretty.\u201d<\/p>\u201cThey remind me of The Silence of the Lambs<\/i>.\u201d I immediately regretted saying this.<\/p>\u201cAre you suggesting I\u2019m a serial killer?\u201d<\/p>\u201cSorry,\u201d I blushed, swallowed. \u201cI didn\u2019t mean it.\u201d<\/p>He chuckled. \u201cWell, let me show you how I kill men.\u201d<\/p>Josh sat down and put his arm around my neck. His stubbled face brushed my cold cheeks. His breath whiskey-bitter. I closed my eyes and opened my mouth to let his wet tongue slide in.<\/p>The flat had warmed and we were naked in bed, panting and sweating.<\/p>\u201cCan I take a shower?\u201d<\/p>\u201cOf course. But watch out for the cat litter.\u201d I moved slowly in the dark, feeling the way with my feet. The door knob stuck, rattled in my hands. \u201cIt\u2019s a bit late,\u201d he said, quietly. \u201cYou can stay tonight if you like.\u201d<\/p>It was a tempting invitation. I hesitated for a few seconds, then nodded. In the bathroom, I fumbled for the light switch. Found the chain and pulled. There, on the tiled floor beneath the wash basin, was a blue tray filled with white crystals.<\/p>The shower was nearly scalding. I stood in the tub and shivered. The water turned my flesh red before swirling down the drain at my feet. The shower curtain was opaque. Anything could\u2019ve been happening on the other side. I stared at the eddy a long time.<\/p>Out and dry, I climbed back into bed. \u201cI believe you. Zizzi exists!\u201d<\/p>\u201cOf course he does! When will you start trusting me?\u201d<\/p>\u201cIt\u2019s our first time, you know.\u201d I tried to hide my embarrassment. \u201cWhy doesn\u2019t he come out?\u201d<\/p>\u201cHe was a stray. I found him near the refuse room and brought him home. He always hides from visitors. He must\u2019ve experienced something traumatic.\u201d Josh scrunched his pillow and rolled over to face me. \u201cI\u2019m the only person he trusts.\u201d<\/p>\u201cDo you have many visitors?\u201d<\/p>\u201cI\u2019ve got a few friends.\u201d His hand smoothed the wrinkles in the comforter. \u201cSince breaking up with my ex, I\u2019ve had some dates.\u201d<\/p>So, I was only one<\/i> of Josh\u2019s dates. The idea of him seeing other men made me jealous, though I had no right to expect otherwise.<\/p>He pulled me close to spoon. His body was smooth, his breath soothing, and I fell quickly asleep.<\/p>In the middle of the night, I awakened to movement. Something was touching my face. Warm.Fluffy. Prickly, even. My thoughts ran to The Silence of the Lambs<\/i>. Chills shot down my spine.<\/p>I forced my eyes open. The light coming through the half-drawn curtain revealed a small, black creature with one paw on my pillow.<\/p>Hello Zizzi, I thought.<\/p>Zizzi inspected my face and I returned his gaze. His green eyes glistened, curious.<\/p>I relaxed my lips into a smile, as if to reassure that I meant no harm. The trick worked. Slowly, Zizzi stretched his legs and lay his head down. I felt the fur on his stomach, rubbed it gently. The room filled with a continuous purring.<\/p>On the other side of the bed, Josh slept unaware. His face was calm. He had long eyelashes.<\/p>From behind their glass panes, the butterflies beamed.<\/p>\u00a0<\/p>[\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=\"4.21.0\" _module_preset=\"default\" custom_padding=\"0px|||||\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_column type=\"4_4\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_text _builder_version=\"4.21.0\" _module_preset=\"default\" text_font=\"Josefin Slab||||||||\" text_text_color=\"#000000\" text_font_size=\"16px\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"]<\/p>Hongwei Bao<\/strong> (he\/him) is a queer Chinese writer and academic based in Nottingham, UK. His work explores queer desire, Asian identity, diasporic positionality and transcultural intimacy. His creative work has appeared in BBC Radio Nottingham<\/i>, Cha: An Asian Literary Journal<\/i>, Covert Literary Magazine<\/i>, Ink, Sweat & Tears<\/i>, Litter Magazine<\/i>, Poetry Catalog<\/i>, Shanghai Literary Review<\/i>, The Anthropocene<\/i>, The Covert Literary Magazine<\/i>, The Hooghly Review<\/i>, The Other Side of Hope<\/i>, The Ponder Review<\/i>, The Rialto<\/i>, The Voice & Verse Poetry Magazine<\/i> and Write On<\/i>.<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div>[\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row column_structure=\"1_3,1_3,1_3\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" custom_margin=\"|auto|-100px|auto||\" custom_padding=\"0px||0px|||\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_column type=\"1_3\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_image src=\"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/08\/Color-Print-Logo-with-full-text-1.jpg\" title_text=\"Color-Print-Logo-with-full-text-1\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" positioning=\"relative\" vertical_offset=\"50px\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][\/et_pb_image][\/et_pb_column][et_pb_column type=\"1_3\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_image src=\"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/08\/ncwn-logo.jpg\" title_text=\"ncwn-logo\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" positioning=\"relative\" vertical_offset=\"50px\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][\/et_pb_image][\/et_pb_column][et_pb_column type=\"1_3\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_signup provider=\"mailpoet\" mailpoet_list=\"Variant Literature|3\" title=\"Subscribe to our Newsletter\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" form_field_background_color=\"#000000\" form_field_text_color=\"#FFFFFF\" header_text_align=\"center\" header_text_color=\"#000000\" background_color=\"#FFFFFF\" custom_button=\"on\" button_text_color=\"#000000\" button_bg_color=\"#FFFFFF\" button_border_width=\"6px\" button_border_color=\"#000000\" button_border_radius=\"20px\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][\/et_pb_signup][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" custom_padding=\"81px||4px|||\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_column type=\"4_4\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_text _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"]<\/p>\u00a9 Variant Literature Inc 2023<\/em><\/p>[\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section]<\/p>","_et_gb_content_width":"","_coblocks_attr":"","_coblocks_dimensions":"","_coblocks_responsive_height":"","_coblocks_accordion_ie_support":"","_crdt_document":"","advanced_seo_description":"","jetpack_seo_html_title":"","jetpack_seo_noindex":false,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-7574","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/PdfuLj-1Ya","amp_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/7574","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/159740934"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=7574"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/7574\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7745,"href":"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/7574\/revisions\/7745"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=7574"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}](\"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/08\/ncwn-logo.jpg”\"){kind=link}