Maybe everyone had their own kind of moon in them. Full ones and halves. Slivers and curves.… Continue Reading
It’s a quiet moment in Mexico. There are always a few such moments of total silence dispersed throughout the afternoon. Other times it’s the sound of the water pump grinding into action, or snatches of banda music, children’s voices. One thing after another. But it’s quiet right now—uncomfortably so.… Continue Reading
Mary, in apartment 331, has woken up larger, wonders if her new keto diet is backfiring. Adam, in 340, asks if it is normal for his twelve-year-old to experience bloating and cramps with no blood. Louise, in 119, says she must’ve blacked out hard on sleeping pills, because she peed on a stick this morning and the double lines appeared.… Continue Reading
Arno thought this cannot go on forever, it’s our fourth date and she seems happy, though the sun is hot on the back of my neck. So he strengthened his willpower, kept things steady, despite the traffic distractions and her weight. They looked into each other’s eyes and Mandy asked, “Am I too heavy?”… Continue Reading
I don’t usually hitch a ride with strangers, especially ones I’m about to allow inside me. But the right combination of sleeplessness and alcohol can persuade me to make some compromises, and tonight, I’m feeling particularly weak-willed.… Continue Reading
“You like sheep?” A smile cracked through the dried blood on Sam’s face. Mac grinned. “My truck’s only certified for liquid effluvia, mate.”… Continue Reading
Keep your fucking lemons and go make your own fucking lemonade if you like it so much. I’d rather have a beer.… Continue Reading
Miss Ferguson doesn’t mind me smoking, its aroma reminding her of her dead father, and tells me my surly expression, which I nurture, spoils my looks as I sense her warming to me. Being too young to attract girlfriends is my saving grace in her eyes.… Continue Reading
Feet apart, hands out like the Scale of Justice, you weigh who you were with who you are.… Continue Reading
People will tell you that they always saw what you were, but they’ll never offer up why they kept the information to themselves. Who are we to give a thing a name?… Continue Reading