FLASH
Through the dusty window in my parent’s bedroom, I watched the neighbor’s cattle graze.
Jenna says that he typically goes for redheads, so I run to Target and buy a box of hair dye.
On the first day of our new life together, my husband realized that I was not interested in theoretical debate. He said it was okay by him and went out to get some pancake mix.
Another image rises to us both: A man hunched before a TV, watching historical documentaries, correcting incorrect facts. Rasputin was not a priest, damn it.
Kate Winslet always reminded me of my mom. Maybe that’s why, even to this day, I get defensive of Rose from Titanic when people call her stupid or shallow…
At the end of the meeting, the villagers agreed to contribute shillings and pounds to sponsor Elochi to a university in America.
It was spring and the hills were irradient, like they had to get out all their green in one short burst before catching fire.
Mama sped along the highway, unbothered by bits of gravel that flew up from the front tires and struck the windshield of the sedan.
Infant’s Name: A
Delivery Date: August 1, 2002
At twenty, the world is yours because you’re beautiful. But never acknowledge your beauty, or it makes you a bitch.
We drifted junk with a sledgehammer looking for juice. Sometimes the rage.
A man with a fistful of showbags said, “That cow sounds like a person trying to sound like a cow.”
He used to hold my hand on Commonwealth. I wonder sometimes if he ever still thinks about my mouth.
Allanson looked out of the viewport, at the ragtag flotilla of ships trailing behind, some of them slow to catch up. It was to be expected with the little time that they’d had to cobble the fleet together.
I’d never heard of anyone having a second baby right after the first one, but everything was so strange in those early days of motherhood that I just acted on instinct.
Sex is not a thank you card in this house.
Could someone hating you really cause a physical unease? Sure, why not.
None speak of how the streets collide in coarse seams like scars, the fresh cobbles unable to level with the ones shaken from their mortar by uncountable seasons.
Sitting at the bar on Pacific Avenue. With the seashells in the walls. Same bartender from last year, still here, making the same lethal Mai Tais.
Sound engineers believe Alan Rickman possessed the perfect male voice. Early acting teachers told him he sounded like he was speaking from the back of a drainpipe.