The dogs won’t stop barking. I throw them treats and still they won’t stop. She’s not coming back! I tell them. And then I start barking too.
Twisters
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He opens his eyes. The morning light colors the room. It’s too early, he thinks. Then he says so. You’re supposed to like this, she mumbles.
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We watch the sun kiss the horizon. I take another donut. She hums Blue Moon ironically. I can feel her judging me. She’s judging me so hard.
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The Magnanimous Man says, I remember being a reckless teenager, and the young woman says, I’m 37, and the Magnanimous Man pinches her cheek.
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The men are here, yelling the rough poetry of yelling men, of bravado masquerading as honesty, consuming their way to a pained civilization.
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I went to the deli. I asked for my sandwich without cheese. The counter guy started yelling at me before calming down. Then he called me odd.
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We looked through the photos, faded memories of her childhood. You can’t tell you’d end up so hairy, I say out loud entirely unintentionally.
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I followed her blindly. I felt the onset of love. Then screaming. You’re in the ladies’ room! someone yelled. I thought it would be cleaner.
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The sun bathes the park in gold. She lays the blanket down. Isn’t it beautiful? she asks. It is, I can’t deny that, but it’s still a picnic.
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She says, Look me up, and she slinks away from me and out of my life so I try and look her up but all her social settings are set to private.
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