Twisters

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By Arjun Basu | Published: June 1, 2013

She says, I love this, and he feels a warmth inside, ready for the next phase of his life, and he hugs her and she says, I meant my sweater.

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By Arjun Basu | Published: June 1, 2013

His effort was real and sincere and then it was done. She said, Is it over? and then he knew it had not been enough and he checked his phone.

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By Arjun Basu | Published: June 1, 2013

He doesn’t talk a lot but he’s cute and she thinks she might like him. She tells stories about her childhood. I had a teacher once, he says.

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By Arjun Basu | Published: June 1, 2013

This is our memory. The sum of all that we are. Of all that is good and all that is not, leading us to a clearing in the woods. To sunshine.

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By Arjun Basu | Published: June 1, 2013

And just as they were about to kiss, he hunched over, and her shoes were covered in her mother’s special goulash. Well played mom! she cried.

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By Arjun Basu | Published: June 1, 2013

The meeting ended with a joke so foul it left a palpable stink, and then the new guy said, Who farted? and the meeting room was quarantined.

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By Arjun Basu | Published: June 1, 2013

He sits in the backseat reading the day’s bad news. He loves his life, but it’s not enough. Drive us off a cliff, he commands the chauffeur.

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T 6453

By Arjun Basu | Published: April 13, 2013

We are all accidents of history. The professor writes this on the blackboard. Some more than others, he sighs. A bit too loudly. On purpose.

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T 6452

By Arjun Basu | Published: April 13, 2013

Her son came home early. He was drunk and reeked of pot. She was watching porn on her laptop. Her jeans were undone. Dad’s outside, he said.

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T 6451

By Arjun Basu | Published: April 13, 2013

We watched our dogs, their sniffing of intimates, the simplicity of their lives, and later I went home and took a long shower. Just in case.

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