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By Arjun Basu | Published: November 9, 2013

That was fun but not life changing, she says. So he downsizes his own modest expectations. And lumbers toward a conclusion. And finds peace.

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By Arjun Basu | Published: November 9, 2013

The office is dark. Empty. He finishes his report and laughs; the thing is garbage. He trudges home. Hunting the mammoths of his imagination.

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By Arjun Basu | Published: November 9, 2013

The walls gave in. He hadn’t thought the stereo was turned up that loud. Outside, the heat cooked pavement. And the world continued to burn.

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By Arjun Basu | Published: November 9, 2013

I want this waitress to take off her shoes, to see if she’s perfect, but how do I ask such a thing? Stop staring, my wife sighs, kicking me.

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By Arjun Basu | Published: November 9, 2013

I walked in and the chatter ceased and so to cut through the miasma of my situation I introduced myself and then someone said, I smell fish.

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By Arjun Basu | Published: November 9, 2013

The store is full of grown children purchasing entry and acceptance, and I try on a pair of pants and they render me powerful and I buy them.

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By Arjun Basu | Published: November 9, 2013

He picks up the remote and clicks on the television. She says, I was smart before you. He puts down the remote. Then what happened? he asks.

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By Arjun Basu | Published: November 9, 2013

She waits for me at the corner. You are the slowest guy I know, she sighs. We listen to birdsong. And sometimes it pays off for you, I reply.

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By Arjun Basu | Published: November 9, 2013

The thin boy with fat toes desires the hot dog loving vegan. So very much. For the trangression. And destroy the bonds of a modern morality.

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By Arjun Basu | Published: November 9, 2013

The cop handed me the ticket. Don’t you know who I am? I said. She wrote me another ticket. I love you, I said. Then, she wrote another one.

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