Somewhere within me must be memories I could call my own. But how am I to extricate them from the cacophony of other voices, other visions? Layered over the person I once was are a hundred thousand half-remembered dreams, stories, glories, losses. All the pieces that will be passed on again when I am dead; the secret history of my life stowed away in my blood's enormous cargo.

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Read “Doorway, Smile, Kiss, Fox” by Jeremy Packert Burke, in Issue #311

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Jeremy Packert Burke is a graduate of the Clarion Writers’ Workshop and an MFA candidate at the University of Alabama. They have had stories in or forthcoming from, The Masters Review, Fireside, the Indiana Review, the Nashville Review, and other places. Find them on Twitter @jempburke or on the regular internet at

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