Another Day at the Cardiological Lending Library

Penny Sarmada


As it turned out, you only wanted to borrow my heart. It wasn’t the sort of thing that held your interest, really, so you thumbed through, underlined a few horny passages and, narrowly avoiding a late fee, slipped it into my mailbox where I was sure to find it in the morning. You didn’t return it in quite the original condition, but then nobody ever has. It’s a little more finger smudged and wine stained than before, dog-eared and slightly foxed. I’ve grown accustomed to carelessness. One day I’ll stop remembering that you scrawled a few sentences of your own in the margins, some over-egged metaphor adding nothing to the plot, forgettable words strung into a shabby paragraph no longer or more significant than this one.


Penny Sarmada is from Ontario. Recent stuff in Versification, Cotton Xenomorph, Roi Fainéant and Bullshit Lit Mag.