FICTION
“Fiction is the lie through which we tell the truth.”
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.
To be encased, Clint had always thought, was foolishness. Why allow yourself to be open to such sorrow?
“The woman was a catastrophe,” Carlos told me at the time. “But she was as honest as my face is ugly.”
The most entertaining thing about Miguel is that when he was 13 he dislocated his shoulder playing basketball and can now pop it in and out of place. There is nothing particularly interesting about Miguel.
He used to hold my hand on Commonwealth. I wonder sometimes if he ever still thinks about my mouth.
It was spring and the hills were irradient, like they had to get out all their green in one short burst before catching fire.
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.
I loved Rena as much as a patient could love their gynecologist. We had tea together in her office. I cried when she asked how I was doing, and she showed me pictures of her terriers.
You’ve been dreading this day since the moment you found out you were pregnant—perhaps even before.
Hitting up homes peopled by those with nothing much to lose was an easy score. The less you had, the less likely you were to defend it. But this home was different. Its residents had a lot to lose and the will to fight for it.
I reached for my invoice, which Dr. George, holding it between thumb and forefinger as if it were a soiled diaper, dropped into my hand.
It all started with the curse of my tits. Women’s bodies are cursed. Everyone tries to look at them, everyone tries to ignore them.
The young boy goes to bed and kisses his mother goodnight. He goes to bed and closes his eyes and wishes his family good sleep.
and on and on and on and on they ran, the Merry Men, running from a hundred and one arrows bought with taxes stolen twice over…
At the end of the meeting, the villagers agreed to contribute shillings and pounds to sponsor Elochi to a university in America.
I don’t know why I was still talking about the rapture. I certainly didn’t believe in it. Regardless, it remained a thief…
When I was on earth I was a pretty good kid. I only got drunk when I needed to get drunk.
She turns her back for me to fasten the rows of metal hooks. Why isn’t our small, tender freedom enough?
Share some abandon.
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