I packed my bags as she slept. She woke and caught me tiptoeing out of the bedroom. You’re a fat liar, she mumbled, figuring me out finally.
Twisters
(Untitled)
I show her my guitar. I feel nervous. But, she’s not into my instrument. She wants to talk. About us. Did you even look at my guitar? I ask.
(Untitled)
A car ran over my foot. Did you see that? I asked, disappointed that I wasn’t hurt. It was an old Camaro, she sighed. Then she ran after it.
Posted in Twisters
Leave a comment
(Untitled)
The waiter brought the bill. The restaurant was empty. We’re stardust, I sighed and downed my cognac. Did you forget your wallet? she asked.
Posted in Twisters
Leave a comment
(Untitled)
He picks up his stuff. I have to get to practice, he tells her. She laughs derisively. He leaves. She lights a smoke. Practice, she mumbles.
(Untitled)
I finally clicked on the link. And it started raining and the streets flooded. This is all my fault, I said. But I’d never seen spam before.
Posted in Twisters
Leave a comment
(Untitled)
He says, I’m a Size 10. She smiles and bends over and finds the size. He says, You have a nice bum. She frowns. She says, I’m holding shoes.
(Untitled)
I cooked for her. This signalled my intentions in the most obvious way. She loved the meal. Why can’t you do this in bed? she asked politely.
(Untitled)
They argued about the day of the week. We’re incompatible, he sighed. And she kissed him. I think it’s the opposite, she said, towelling off.
(Untitled)
The days are long now. Hard. His life feels like a bucketful of lonely. A tundra of hollow. And so this is how he commits to the comb-over.
