Short Story
Blind Devotion
I jack off to one of the pictures of her I have saved on my computer and after I’m done I send her a message to tell her
I jack off to one of the pictures of her I have saved on my computer and after I’m done I send her a message to tell her
In our attic, among things, as it seems of past lives, lives a bitter God. When guests come to our house, we don’t mention him.
The skin is the largest organ of the human body. It insulates and protects. It contains all we are. Fluids, muscles, tissues and bones, shuddering
It’ll be a Wednesday. It’ll be cloudy outside. There will be fog creeping over the ravine and remnants of an early-morning rain still drifting
That day, Ezzie didn’t fantasize about leaving her husband the way she did every other day of the week, which when calculated, amounted to five
She’s lighting a cigarette. The first time pops lost his words, I found her between the legs of a railway, staring at the ocean of
hurricane Syllables [hur-i-keyn, huhr– or, esp. British, -kuh n] –noun After a couple weeks sentence of staying in some foreign place with trees, she came back home and Miami
I. I see a video of women cycling in short dresses talking of how not to flash. They wide-angled their legs, pull the back of
The city centre fast food restaurant, part of a chain known across the world, was empty when the young couple entered. They paused to survey
Sammie Jo don’t talk much. Her mother like to cut out her tongue any time she speaks up. A bone outta socket. As big as
Your voice alights on my armhair, a whiff of cigar smoke— caramel, and ghostly— “Cities die; let them.” Black thing to say. I patter
Sky sky sky sky stars Stars and stars and stars HELLO STARS I love you Blink blink blink twinkle Sky, my home I am
The red door to my home opened and the fresh smell of warm turkey and cranberry sauce collided with my senses the way Sticky
It was difficult getting everything together but she wanted to do it for Yacov. The jaundice had left her weak, drained, and the enervating
Three walls of the room are made of tin, but on the fourth side a polished floor opens, running like fabric into curtains of lace,
In the coffee shop watching all the invisible people. The Chinese cellist reading aloud without a sound, the two men nearby trying to flirt inconspicuously,
“Let’s be in love for just tonight,” you said, When I had better things to do in red High heels. Encircling your big bad bed
A Draft of the Worst Love Letter Ever Written Dearest Stacie, Dear Stacie, My Dear Fri, June 16th, 2014 Stacie, Well hello! Greetings from
In love with dismal days, he told me why: Won by dimensions, his green eyes caress Big bosomed clouds. Suggestiveness of haze Conjures up Milky
The thunder polka of a new romance Began today on my left foot, the one Believed to lead suggestiveness astray. True love’s a waltz: it’s
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