“I couldn’t sleep that night, so I got up and wandered into my son’s room, bumping my head on the little mobile above him: circus animals wearing funny hats. I brushed a sweaty strand of hair from his brow and put my lips close to his ear. “Fly,” I whispered. “Fly, fly, fly.” ~Chauna Craig, Wings & Other Things🍂 . Happy Friday, my friends! I am so excited to share with you this gorgeous book of short stories that I’ve recently fallen in love with.🍂 . Wings & Other Things by Chauna Craig “is a book of migrations. Its characters flutter and flap, take off and land, then take off again as they seek the places they belong.” And it is one of the most beautiful books I’ve ever read.🍂 . I love a well-written short story so much. There is such an art to saying so much in such a short space, and I am always blown away by how captivated I get when reading them. And Wings & Other Things is full of the most beautifully written, powerful, and moving stories that I’ve ever read.🍂 . Each of Craig’s carefully crafted stories will connect you with your humanity, and the liminal spaces these characters occupy show the power and wisdom that can be found in a moment.🍂 . I loved the women in this book so much, and I feel so connected to their journeys. And I am so grateful that I had a chance to read this book!🍂 . Thank you, @chaunacraig for sharing your gifts with the world and congrats on this gorgeous new release!🍂 . Book Description: “These are characters caught in transition: a widow searching for a past self on an "Impossible Blue" coast, lovers explaining to the police and themselves why they're hiding in a Nebraska cornfield, a teacher on a flight from Chengdu struggling to be understood, a stranded artist accepting a ride from a stranger on a highway haunted by the ghost of a woman who never made it home. Each story is a transformation as Craig turns railroad tracks into an "infinite number line" and a lightning bolt into a "tentacle of the unseen." A plastic fork becomes a parable of fragility, and a "scrap moon" is an image of what is lost and what yet remains. Even a single word captures longing, instinct, regret, and stubborn hope: "Fly, fly, fly." . @press_53