I often wonder: do those people who post online about their fantastic day, their wonderful partner, their sheer joy at being alive—do they read what others write? Or rather, perhaps, what others don’t write? Do they see the empty spaces? Or do they just check in to self-congratulate? To thank their …
Prose & Poetry
Prose poem: Rock n’ Roll Heartbreak
I love a good dive bar on a Saturday night. I love drinking from the bottle and getting tight. I love the girl who’s standing at the bar, giving me a look that says you won’t get far. I love the size of her boyfriend’s fists. I love the pain of a broken nose. I love the taste of my own blood. I love …
Flash fiction: Goodbye, Barcelona
Lukas knew better than to accept the invitation he received on the last night of his trip to Barcelona, but Celeste knew that wouldn’t stop him. Celeste was beautiful—an eight-and-a-half out of ten, easily—and Lukas was basically an idiot. When Lukas arrived at the small sushi restaurant in the …
Micro-fiction: Five Vignettes
I saw her last night. She was dressed in a black swing-dress, with black tights and a pair of pumps that had fat pink laces. Her hair was magenta, just as I remember, tied back, her lips wet and red. She smiled and we chatted. She laughed, and those creases in her cheeks appeared. I used to love …