Cathy Ulrich

Being the Murdered Sleeper

The thing about being the murdered sleeper is will you set the plot in motion?

And will they share your name on social media and will they make drawings of your face and will they say justice must be done?

And will they misspell your name and will they make you into a meme and will they know how you liked to style your hair? Will they know how you slept last night, beside your boyfriend, how he smelled like bottled sand and cinnamon sticks, how your head rested against his shoulder, how he felt your every breath and pulse, how he didn’t know to think she is alive right now, she is so alive?

Will they know the city at night, pigeon’s wing brush, their hushing coos, the pad of alley-cat foot on concrete, heartbeat thrum of dark-light traffic, the tread of your neighbors going up and down, up and down the stairs?

Will they know your deepening breaths, your fluttering eyes, your birdwing heartbeat, and the dance of your last dreams in your head?

Will they say your name, will they share your name, and will you be a hashtag, a symbol, a rallying cry?

Will they look at pictures of your smiling face, will they cry, will they curse, will they think she was just like me, will they think it could have been anyone, it could have been me?

Even in Cathy Ulrich's quiet neighborhood, it gets loud at night. Her work has been published in various journals, including Ecotone, Invisible City and Jet Fuel Review.