As Adam hurried to the gas station, he ignored the house on the corner where Ben the Torturer lived. Ben the Cruel and Beautiful with his light blue eyes, blond hair and wild athleticism. He put gawky Adam to shame.… more
As Adam hurried to the gas station, he ignored the house on the corner where Ben the Torturer lived. Ben the Cruel and Beautiful with his light blue eyes, blond hair and wild athleticism. He put gawky Adam to shame.… more
Kids called her, Sad Sadie, the Fat Lady. They called him, Bo Bo the Weirdo.… more
Things like this made grunts hate rear echelon folks: Marines who sit behind computers in AC and call home twice a week while we wash our nuts with baby wipes and wait impatiently for handwritten letters from our moms and girlfriends to arrive.… more
We were in our penultimate days then—that stage where we were still in marital counselling with the social worker with the hooker boots and every one of my failings was a metaphor for something sinister.… more
Ellen has chicken in her mouth when the president is shot. Momma has chicken, Andrew has chicken, we’re all eating chicken.… more
Looters ran from burning homes carrying televisions and vases. On the lawn across from her, a prayer circle held hands and begged for deliverance. Below, two men wrestled on the ground with knives and broken bottles. Sandra studied the liquors next to her.… more
I have felt insanity in depths and breadth, but you do not feel like insanity. You feel like home, wrapped in mystery, tied in insanity. I know how to tell the difference.… more
By the time she was an adult, her daily life was a bonfire. Up in flames to please her boss. Crackling when taking her daughter to dance class after a long day. An inferno when making the family meals.… more
When your dead cousin visits, you’re pleased he doesn’t smell of garbage-strewn alleys and rank BO, like his late-night poundings on your door when he’s all Come on cuz, you’ve always had it better than me, share the wealth.… more
Make yourself look like you’re the mass killer in a courtroom, and the family’s all watching you, the stylist says. My family or the victim’s family? I ask. Uh, either one, the stylist says.… more