I tried to show her the puppies. I wanted to share their cuteness with her. You hurt me last night, she said. I decided to sell the puppies.
Twisters
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The dude said, You don’t want to know what she did, but I had to know, and he told me, and that’s how I learned I had nothing left to drink.
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The car comes to a stop and idles in front of my house. It’s a red car, shiny, low to the ground. My cell rings. It’s not good news. For me.
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I ordered a burger. My father called. He was leaving his wife. How many is that? I asked. I need some cash, he said. And I ordered a Whisky.
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Her stomach is littered with bite marks. She says, Why would you do that? I remember this thing my mother once did. All I can do is I shrug.
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My life feels like the totality of those moments between waking and the first cup of coffee. I tell her this and she walks away even faster.
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He hits her, reluctantly, lightly, it’s more like a tap really, because he’s a gentleman. Then she hits him. And he ends up in the hospital.
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Your vengeance is more like Hollywood vengeance, and that means you will make a mistake, because I’m the good guy, and you have awful makeup.
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I used to believe in risk. In the immensity of the reward that lay on the other side of fear. Then I got hit by a car. I never got her name.
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I come home and pour myself a scotch and she says, We need to talk, and I grab the bottle and sit down and hit myself over the head with it.
