Tuesday
I didn’t really know the girl, so I’m not as sad as I should be. And anyway, time makes things blurry.
Tuesday
I didn’t really know the girl, so I’m not as sad as I should be. And anyway, time makes things blurry.
Tuesday
Dad is outside working on a hoopty car in the driveway, always working on it.
Monday
“He had considered them his lads, but now that their brigantine was a blot against the sunset, he sat alone on the sand bar wishing them due course into some distant hurricane or navy frigate.”
Tuesday
In mid-air the stereo continues to thump like a heart-beat…
Tuesday
…my lungs still recovering, and my heart all in high pitched howls.…
Tuesday
He was a playboy poet fop.
Tuesday
In a foreign town it’s difficult for a stranger to know you’re just tired, not crazy.
Tuesday
…so one morning he started mixing her into his day…
Tuesday
The sound of the ocean drew him onto the balcony.
Tuesday
A flash fiction reprint: Tania Hershman’s “And Bruised.”