BENT by Robert Beveridge Broke his leg in seven places. Jumped too high but not enough to kill. His cat stays just out of reach, laughs all night, refuses to bring him glasses of Bromo-seltzer. Feline nursemaids are never a good idea.
Robert Beveridge has spent the more recent half of his life making noise (xterminal.bandcamp.com) and writing poetry just outside Cleveland, OH. Recent appearances include the anthology Stories from the Polycule (Thorntree Press, 2015), Random Sample Review, and Anti-Heroin Chic, among others. He has a massive crush on his therapist, but assume this is common.