Finally, some alone time. How’s it going? (after C.M. Crockford)
A.
We’re piecing together a dying patchwork house.
B.
The roads will never shiver again when it’s cold.
C.
It’s lonely, hearing the songs of the dark.
2.
You touch. What’s that like? (after Cole Hediger)
A.
Goosebumps pop up in traced patterns on your skin and you melt.
B.
You're not one to seize opportunities when they present themselves.
C.
Stepping willfully into a little trap, like falling out of love.
3.
Let’s get spiritual. Where are you? (after Travis Cravey)
A.
Feet propped on the altar, burning offerings to the good lord of tobacco.
B.
Inside your own skull, looking out the way a zoo animal looks out of its cage.
C.
On the front steps, blistered with lighter-flames, like sandpaper on the burn.
4.
You share a meal. What are you having? (after Joshua Effiong)
A.
Eat a mounded bowl filled with little multicolored stones.
B.
Step through mud and cattails, pull free your feet and lick a river like a child.
C.
Devour a warehouse of ash, grind the grit between molars.
5.
Turn up the radio. What’s pouring out? (after Noreia Rain)
A.
Raw, slow guitars, like the feel of a secret coin in my pocket, like petals pelted by rain, determined to bloom outward.
B.
Grunge singers drizzling out a long-winded Craig’s List ad for heavy, metallic condemnation.
C.
Scottish rock singers moaning a ripe orange moon outside, solid things shifting themselves inside you.
6.
Tell a bedtime story. What’s it about? (after Nick Olson)
A.
A broken skylight with the sun coming in, vines snaking and low enough to swing from.
B.
A makeshift rocket blasting upward, shattering glass and sky, shooting true and to the stars.
C.
An old bike, mostly rusted—tire rubber burnt and flayed on the rim—ripe for new scars, new stories.
7.
Face it, you messed up. How do you apologize? (after Heidi Nieling)
A.
Start making art so you can have an endless conversation.
B.
Ask for wisdom you don’t have access to.
C.
Don’t. Keep your eyes down, your steps measured, your mouth shut.
8.
Check their breath. What’s it smell like? (after Tisha Marie Reichle-Aguilera)
A.
The promise of swimming on a hot summer day, a jackknife off the high dive. Don’t say: but the lifeguard’s about to blow their whistle.
B.
A free personal pan pizza and five oranges I’d like to save for later.
C.
The inside of a blue Chevy Astro van after 200,000 miles: baby butt and big brother feet. But, I don’t mind.
9.
Look under the bed, What’s in that box? (after Cat Dixon)
A.
Two people who happened to like the same cartoon show about a pen holder shaped like a fire hydrant.
B.
A consolation prize, a thank you gift, a faded Polaroid photo of a naked brunette in a bathtub labeled “1985.”
C.
A cartoon-like beast with a handlebar mustache wearing a Winnie the Pooh tie that still stalks your nightmares.
10.
Done with dinner. What’s still in store? (after Kate Hargreaves)
A.
Scrawl to-do lists onto your palms, then dream with brightness up and saturation down.
B.
Switch from outdoor shoes to slippers and start knitting baby socks on tiny needles.
C.
Wash the still-warm sheets and hang them to flutter in the cinema of the yard.
Quiz Outcomes
1.
Ice, Ice, Baby
0-10 pointsSpace is cold, but damn look at those starsIce has its own burn, you knowFrozen, shattered, and sparkling in itty bitty pieces
2.
Getting Warmer
11-20 pointsSet to simmer and walk awayA feeling of heat, traveling across miles and miles of nervesBask in that distant warmth like the beautiful lizard you are
3.
Hot Damn!
21-30 pointsLicked with flameBoiling over, sizzle on the stovetopSnap, crackle, pop, Baby!