It’s interesting how unpreocuppied he is with her naked body. In fact, he seems more interested in the contents of the medicine cabinet, entertaining himself for the better part of half an hour. He laughs softly at the oddly shaped containers the hotel management stocks, the ugly lime green complementary shower caps, the plastic toothbrushes [...]
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Talking to you is like cream crackers for dinner. It’s quaint, but never entirely satisfying. Still, often I find myself rising from my bed in the dead of night and snaking into the pantry. I’ll stick my hand into a cardboard box, sit with my back to the wall, and devour cracker after cracker. They [...]
Sometimes I go to a concert with the usual pilgrims. We sit in line for hours, licking lipstick off our teeth. In square formation, lying on raincoats, we lean in towards each other, hair held in limp buns, swapping confidences. Some boys and girls abandon the front and trade spittle, fingertips playing along the fault [...]
Sometimes I go to an arcade with the usual pilgrims. We flit from golden basketball hoops to confessional-sized shooting simulators, ripping the attached cords from the plastic rifles. A pair at the billiards table shoot and sink balls, letting sport be the medium for their hot and heavy remarks (“got that one good, didn’t you?”). [...]
During our morning snack break, the girls and boys of the eleventh and twelfth grades gather in the cafeteria. It’s not the one we eat lunch in, but a classier area meant for teachers, outfitted with a bar and coffee machine. For half an hour, after third period, the tiled linoleum, the tables and chairs, the glass [...]
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
Today I attempted to look tough. I donned my most no-nonsense outfit (which actual no-nonsense people would say is not very no-nonsense, especially considering it was purchased in a chic shopping mall, but how’s about we let that one go) and stood in a strategically dimmed corridor in front of the most robust mirror in [...]
The supermarket is selling paperback romance novels now. As my mother goes about choosing an appropriate watermelon, I flip through one at random: slinky virginal heroines and honeymoons spent feeding lovers choice meats. At four euros, or nearly five dollars, “Passion” would cost me a third of what “Blindness” by José Saramago did. Maybe I [...]