Perfection is the highest note you can reach, it is the apex of your burnt out gasp. It couldn’t be achieved through sadness or exhaustion, separately. Yet, together, and strung out in a broken second hand, you found it- beautiful. All you had to do was help an ex-lover push a grand piano out onto a frozen lake. You had to break both of your thumbs in perfect symmetry to grow up. You had to bind mattresses like books, with all the classics penned to them, just to get some sleep. You heard it all with your smallest bones inside your inner ear. Somedays, perfection is the quiet of your hands pressing play on the braille love letters of a blind man. Somedays, it sounds like an earthquake detector while you’re in the shower.
Your Smallest Bones is a collection of short fiction built on the sounds we make when we run out of sounds. Held hostage by her own hand, on the day of her husbands funeral, a woman recreates her favorite western. In a tea garden after a conversation with a child, a man finds heaven as he timidly describes hell. Across town when a pianist loses his hearing, he paints the color spectrum along his piano keys, to stain his favorite lost notes. Meanwhile, a girl next door carries a prayer, from the lions she feeds, into a song, for a parrot she adopts. These stories most likely will never occur, but it is better that they do, at the very least here.
Your Smallest Bones consists of twelve stories. Six have been published in various literary journals, and one was nominated for the 2012 Pushcart Prize. It is a complete manuscript at 40,000 words.
Thank you for you time and attention.
Sincerely, Sean Taylor