A Layer Thin As Breath – Thea Boodhoo

“Valley. Can you still hear me?” Julian’s voice filtered through her dying radio. The Prince of Cats was a speck of light, dimming through the gold-grey film that, atom by atom, was devouring her helmet. Valley tried to say something, anything. Failed. Julian was sobbing on the other end. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so kzzzzzzchchchcffft—” and that was it. Her radio was gone. “Oh god,” she breathed to herself, to no one. “Oh god,” …

A question for Thea Boodhoo

Q: Have you ever consciously written a ‘message’ story? Was it easier or harder than usual?

A: The most popular thing I’ve written to date is called “Open letter to the tech bro who spat at me, from that pigeon eating a noodle on Market Street.” I wrote it after seeing a man spit at a pigeon. It took me forty-five minutes and was fueled by pure rage. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to write something like that again. The message was: don’t be a dick to pigeons.


Thea Boodhoo’s story “A Layer Thin As Breath
in Metaphorosis Friday, 12 July 2019.
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About Thea Boodhoo

Thea Boodhoo grew up in the western United States as the only child of bohemian intellectuals. The only hobbies she could afford were free ones, so she became a writer and explorer. The redwood forest and the high desert were her best friends — and maybe they still are. She lives in San Francisco with an old shaggy rabbit, a looming jungle of houseplants, and thirty reference books on indigenous foods for her in-progress science fiction novel.

theaboodhoo.com, @tharkibo


Thea Boodhoo’s story “A Layer Thin As Breath
in Metaphorosis Friday, 12 July 2019.
Subscribe now for e-mail updates!