![]() ![]() When I told Miller, they yelped into the phone like they’d broken a toe: But it’s summer! That’s what summer is for! And you live so close! Their voice cracked, on summer and summer and close. Neither of my girlfriends would take me to the beach. We’re almost there! Please give what you can today. We’ve set a goal of raising $10,000 by the end of June. To read “Daisies” is to be invited inside that friendship, and to be reminded that the greatest gift in any relationship, romantic or otherwise, is the freedom of being loved while also being yourself.Įlectric Literature recently launched a new creative nonfiction program, and received 500 submissions in just 36 hours! Now we need your help to grow our team, carefully and efficiently review submitted work, and further establish EL as a home for artful and urgent nonfiction. The narrator is free to misspeak, and to recover, to bumble around in confusion, to get held down by a wave, and to come up for air. Miller is the kind of friend anyone would be lucky to have from the moment Miller arrives, their conversation is alight with inside jokes and effortless irony. ![]() The murder is glum and losing steam (the keystone marriage is falling apart) but the platonic chemistry between Miller and the narrator fuels the story. Miller is further along in their transition-they take testosterone, they’ve had top surgery-and together they discuss their changing identities and bodies with a fluency that can only exist between great friends with shared experience. “Instagram, I eventually admitted, knew more about my gender than I did,” writes Litfin, with characteristic sardonic precision. They have purchased “a one-piece spandex thing,” sold to them by the algorithm. The narrator’s complicated feelings about their gender are intensified by the sartorial expectations of the swimsuit. Though the weather may be perfect, the beach is nonetheless fraught. Litfin writes with the energy of a perfect summer day: bright, fun, cathartic, and satisfying. A throuple, one might call it, but they prefer the term “murder,” as for crows, because “throuple and polycule were straight people words that sounded like science projects.” ![]() The narrator is the third in a relationship with a married couple. “Neither of my girlfriends would take me to the beach.” So begins “Daisies” by Marne Litfin, in which the narrator’s friend, Miller, drives from Binghamton to Philadelphia to do what their girlfriends won’t, which is take them down the shore. The Perfect Beach Weather for Every Gender ![]()
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