Olivia disappeared on a new-moon night. It was exactly two years, or twenty-four new moons, ago. Wallow says that means that tonight is Olivia’s unbirthday, the anniversary of her death. It’s weird: our grief is cyclical, synched with the lunar cycles. It accordions out as the moon slivers away. On new-moon nights, it rises with the tide.I recently devoured Karen Russell's short story collection. St. Lucy's Home for Girls Raised by Wolves and managed to find one of my favourites free online, which is awesome when it comes to rec'ing. 'Haunting Olivia' is a beautiful, heartwrenching story about two brothers looking for their dead sister in a polluted sea haunted by dead fish. It's downright magical.
You can read 'Haunting Olivia' over at The New Yorker website.
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