He’s been dead maybe ten minutes. Maybe thirty. Long enough for the ice in his Jameson-and-ginger to turn thin, to drift apart, their edges fraying into the map of something broken.… more
He’s been dead maybe ten minutes. Maybe thirty. Long enough for the ice in his Jameson-and-ginger to turn thin, to drift apart, their edges fraying into the map of something broken.… more
And—in that moment—she thought she was happy, but really, she was just drunk… more
Knock, knock, you said. What? I said. You’re supposed to say who’s there, you said. Oh, I said, sorry, go again. No, you said, you ruined it.… more
The arm snakes through the upside-down window, cuts a ninety-degree turn at the elbow, palm open in salutation. I only see the forearm: freckled, hardworking, like it belongs to an all-around good chap. It’s been waving a while. Now, it’s waving at me.… more
He twirls me around and then lifts me on the kitchen counter and starts singing loudly in his broken English. I shush him but he doesn’t stop. He dances in circles while the pan catches on fire and the smoke of burnt chicken fills up my nostrils.… more
I tumbled back into the past, into those moments I’ve relived so many times. Knee-deep in icy water, my numb hands submerged. Reaching, grabbing, pulling. Screams echoing around me, mingling with the cries of seagulls.… more
My ex, Ray, claimed he could see inside me. Your bones, he’d said on our first date. I’d assumed he was referring to my skeletal structure, perhaps complimenting me on high cheekbones or a soft jawline. But then one day he asked why I didn’t have the cavity in my left molar fixed. … more
“’Come on, man,’ Giuseppe said. ‘You’re starting to bum me out.’ ‘Yeah,’ Leo said. ‘What is this?’ Sammy shook his head. ‘Share,” Giuseppe said. ‘If not with us then with who?’ ‘You mean whom?’ Leo said. And Giuseppe said, ‘I mean suck my dick, okay?'”… more
Chinni chuckles softly, then begs, then resorts to Reiki for transmuting her unspent libido, while you bury all your helplessness in newspapers, reading from first to last page, then at the clinic, filling the plastic cup and praying for at least one or two to get up, do the work.… more
On his walk to work he sees ink insulation like guts hanging from the cavernous chest cavity of the black dumpster. Dozens of flies crowding on a flattened squirrel who has something green leaking from one intact eye. The flies scatter at his approach, the buzzing a soft warning.… more