Monster

She lured men into her castle and forced us to watch Seasons 1 through 19 of America’s Next Top Model. It wasn’t so bad, once we got used to the smell of raw meat and the odd disappearance when one of us pissed her off and the utter, brutal ruthlessness of Tyra Banks. Sure, we missed our wives, our husbands, our kids, our hobbies, our homes, and our dogs. But as a group we got along well. We set up a schedule: rotating chores in the morning, ANTM every afternoon and evening.

Before you ask, yes, any sex—with the monster or each other—was strictly consensual. The monster took pride in not showing favoritism either way.

One night, when we were all cuddling in her tentacles, taking turns to paint her claws with blue nail polish, someone said, “Y’know, Jade’s makeover was just cruel. Tyra likes to talk about empowerment and stuff, but she’s just dehumanizing the girls for entertainment.” We all murmured in agreement.

The monster laughed, and, to our shock, morphed her head perfectly into the face and terrible haircut of Jade from Season 6. “Now you understand why I’m such a monster,” she cackled, before transforming smoothly back into her green and many-toothed self. “Just kidding!”

That’s when one of us finally asked, “So…what’s the point of all this? Why did you bring us here to watch America’s Next Top Model?”

“The point?” growled the-monster-who-is-definitely-not-Jade-from-Season-6. She bit off the tip of his finger. We fell into an uncomfortable silence. On the TV, Tyra screamed, her eyes shiny with tears: “I was rooting for you. We were all rooting for you! How dare you?”

 

Collisions

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My Brad Pitt Boyfriend

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The End of Summer

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Nemesis

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The Heat Always Rises

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Three Stories

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Ouzo

Twenty years later I watched a music video and saw a girl flop into the back seat of a car and her legs dangled out the door and the whole thing came back and repeated in my head over and over for hours like the return of a chronic infection, like a burning, corrosive rash.Continue Reading

One Nighter

The next morning, the fancy flower is limp, petals dry, brown. It’s over. Loneliness grips Elwood, as if the vivid colors and fruity scent were a charming houseguest whose sudden departure shrunk his world.Continue Reading

Wrong Cadillac

Grandpa’s truck just waved, small. Like she was letting go of something heavy. I cried. Didn’t plan to. Didn’t try not to. Got her home to my place and the project began. First, Heineken, and a Camel. Old man would be proud. Or wonder why it was only 9 a.m.Continue Reading