He bought her an ice cream, and she said, Some people would call this love, and he drifted off for a moment and said, Man that’s super cold.
Twisters
(Untitled)
I said, Of course I’ll sign the petition! I said, These people make me so angry. I said, What’s this for again? I said, Do I get a kiss now?
(Untitled)
We woke and we were sober. We surveyed the room and refused eye contact. She said something pithy. It might have been funny the night before.
(Untitled)
She left him and he suffered an existential calamity. He took to drink, but he no longer got drunk. He bought a kitten. It ruined his couch.
(Untitled)
This isn’t working, she said sadly. I stubbed out my cigarette. But I just spent the day with you in a museum! I wailed. Not that it helped.
(Untitled)
He yawns and finishes his drink and says, I’m tired. He stands up slowly. I’ve been tired for so long, he sings. And then he grabs a guitar.
(Untitled)
The Lonely Man stumbles and screams, I hurt my foot! and when he realizes no one has noticed he yells louder. And then he laughs at himself.
(Untitled)
That time I confused “anatomy” with “archeology.” It wasn’t meant as a roundabout way to call her old. Or even old-ish. I am not that smart.
(Untitled)
Our breathing got heavy, and then she called me “rookie.” Her words: Let’s go rookie. I reminded her I was older. She refused to believe me.
(Untitled)
That girl’s cute, he thinks. He walks toward her and trips on the curb and wants to die right there. She notices him. He’s cute, she thinks.
