Glangel
by Shannon Wallace
My hands are washed. The scent of pomegranate lingers from the kool-aid red soap. I touch my husband’s desk, thick and syrupy with vape-residue and cheeto dust.
An emaciated woman wearing a plague doctor mask and two wings made of white latex gloves looms over me. Her presence made itself known as her gloves, soft and without warmth nor cold, brush past my shoulders. A guardian angel that has nothing to guard — as I won’t be going anywhere. I won’t come or go. This works for us, as she can’t really fly.
Shannon Wallace is an artist, writer, and independent scholar. She is an American Canadian with roots on the East Coast. She received a BA in English and Art from the University of Toronto in 2022. She has recently had her poetry/art published online in the 5-7-5 Journal, #Ranger, The TypeScript Journal, Slate, Bombuss Press, Technophilia: A Transhumanist Zine, STATIC ZINE, and in Curated by Covid: A Digital Gallery. Her artwork has been shown at Rochester Contemporary Art Center, University of Western, Visual Arts Mississauga, Joshua Creek Heritage Art Centre, and Gallery 1313.
