Dishsoap Quarterly:

My blue-collar husband hates this side of town because he thinks hipsters are contagious and he’s afraid he’ll spontaneously grow a moustache proselytizing to strangers about mung-bean milk and old-growth forests—but I lived here once, in a basement suite with ceilings so low I had to crouch in the bathtub to wash my hair—but it was worth it for the Ethiopian restaurant on the corner and spoken word open mic nights at the Laughing Oyster Book Shoppe.

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Christy Hartman
Christy Hartman pens short fiction from her home between the ocean and mountains of Vancouver Island Canada. She writes about the chasm between love and loss and picking out the morsels of magic in life’s quiet moments. Christy has been published in Elegant Literature, Bright Flash Literary Review, Fairfield Scribes, and others. When not writing, Christy devotes her time to whichever old or injured rescue dog has wormed their way into heart, currently an anxious Red Heeler named Cyrus. Her other hobby is cooking vegan meals and trying to convince her husband they taste just like chicken.
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