The Visitor | Fiction

Lily Felsenthal

I. How might I explain my daily mission? I wake up and my first task is not to piss the bed. It’s me against my own piss. A formidable opponent: its urgency makes demands of me. I have no choice but to rise to the occasion. I am Achilles, aflame with the death of Patroclus, riding into battle. I know the kinds of things they say about me. I said...