Honestly, I thought I meant more to Neil. For every orgasm, from his shady teenage fumblings in sullied sheets to the creation of both his sons, I was there. Always reliable. Plugging away. Doing my prostate thing.… more
Writer: Neil Connelly
Three Essays
CREATIVE NONFICTION by Neil ConnellySix weeks after giving birth, one morning Beth lacked the strength to lift a hair dryer. Soon tugging a diaper tab spiked piercing pain. Her immune system assaulted her muscles. A drug cocktail restored her somewhat but with cruel side effects. Meanwhile, a book about the disease offered this on page two: “A good carpenter can extend the doorways in your house to accommodate the wheelchair.”… more
