T 5905

By Arjun Basu | Published: October 16, 2012

I poured her the whisky until it spilled out of the tumbler. Then I made eye contact with her and grinned. Are you 100 years old? she asked.

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And Then It Gets Cold

By Arjun Basu | Published: October 13, 2012

The geese are flying south. Frost crunches underfoot. The trees glow red and orange. The stupid NHL is stupid. The old Expos make the playoffs and are eliminated in rather spectacular fashion (something I had asked for last week – because I am a small and petty man – and something I might have found […]

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Explaining the Noodle

By Arjun Basu | Published: October 4, 2012

I changed my Twitter homepage set up. Because I could. I’m not crazy about the design, and frankly, I’m never on the Twitter website itself because YOU DON’T NEED TO BE but I changed the image because I wanted to express myself, I guess, without getting too Madonna about it. (Not that there’s anything wrong […]

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T 5904

By Arjun Basu | Published: September 28, 2012

I told her my problem and she said, It doesn’t matter, and I kissed her, with genuine relief, and we went to bed, and she said, It mattered.

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T 5903

By Arjun Basu | Published: September 28, 2012

When I was famous no one made fun of my penis, he tells his therapist, and at session’s end, he realizes he’ll be walking toward the bridge.

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T 5902

By Arjun Basu | Published: September 28, 2012

And then he said, I’m not going to buy anything ever again, and the world stopped turning and she said, Just for that you don’t get cupcakes.

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T 5901

By Arjun Basu | Published: September 28, 2012

The ball sails through the air, untethered, free, until it submits to the inevitability of gravity, and it hurtles toward me. And I drop it.

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T 5900

By Arjun Basu | Published: September 28, 2012

He stormed into her bridal shower. The joy inside froze to a confused silence. Honey? she said, approaching him. I hate fish, he announced.

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T 5899

By Arjun Basu | Published: September 28, 2012

The train stopped amidst fields that stretched toward an uncertain horizon. We’re going to die, he told her. The answer’s still no, she said.

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T 5898

By Arjun Basu | Published: September 28, 2012

My phone rings. My mother’s elbow is sore. Again. I tell her I’m not a doctor. Again. My date leaves. Again. I order another bourbon. Again.

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