Jan/Feb 2021 • Vol. XLIII No. 1 January 4, 2021 |

The Queen of Sheba

He appeared at the food co-op like an airplane. Dark fuselage composed of sharp angles, black ink on graphic paper, the snapping end of a whip breaking the sound barrier. He was wearing a bridge coat. In essence, a peacoat that extended to his thighs, six buttons in military rows, the shoulder line cut like the edge of a cliff. The man suited the coat well. The jaw was stark and the height a little more than six feet tall. Ever the seamstress’s daughter, she appreciated a man who knew how to pick a hemline that suited his body. One inch too high or too low, and she would have dismissed him as an idiot. She stared at the peak lapels for a moment before settling on his face. He seemed overly focused on his task, which meant that he had noticed her as well. His hand was fleeting from one clementine to the next, pausing over the glossiest ones. She could tell he liked his fruit firm, their thick peels unmarred. Each time he leaned over the stand, she would catch a puff of cologne, sw

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Photo of Nay Saysourinho
Nay Saysourinho is a writer based in San Francisco. Her work has appeared in the Funambulist and the Margins, and she has received fellowships from One Story, Kundiman, and the San Francisco Writers' Grotto. A Tin House Summer Workshop alumna and Mendocino Coast Writers' Workshop scholar, she is currently working on her first novel.

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