X-RAY | Harriet Heydemann


Inside a dark room,

A single light shines behind the glass.

Supine splendor of grey on black film.

Turn it upside, a branch bent in the wind.

Flip it around, a seahorse singing in the waves.

Someone in a white coat defaces the image,

Marking “eighty-five degrees” where high scores don’t bode well.

That’s impossible, I say.

This is not a math problem.


Harriet Heydemann is an MFA candidate in the Creative Writing Program at San Francisco State University. Her work has been published in The Sun, Hippocampus, Brain, Child magazine and The Big Roundtable and is forthcoming in the anthology She’s Got This. Heydemann is working on her memoir My Daughter Doesn’t Want Me to Use Her Name. Early chapters have appeared in A Cup of Comfort for Parents of Children with Special Needs and Huffington Post. She was a featured reader in Listen to Your Mother, San Francisco, and she is alum of the juried workshops of Squaw Valley Community of Writers, Aspen Summer Words, and Writing by Writers. www.harrietheydemann.com