February 2012
19 posts
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Dinah’s Kitchen
Dinah wiped her hands on her apron. It hadn’t fully dried since the last time she washed her hands, so the act was essentially a waste of time.
“Just like everything else,” she mused before flipping the sign on the front door to Closed.
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Green Bubble Tea a scene.
“I can’t eat this,” she said.
“Why not?” I had already eaten enough sushi for three people. It was shameful, but it was all so delicious, I couldn’t help myself. It wasn’t as though my companion was going to help me finish it, either. She watched me eat another piece, and I thought she was going to be sick.
“It’s...
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The Failings of Youth
The phone was ringing again, but I didn’t bother to answer it. I figured it was probably my mother, calling to ask how I was doing, and I’d have to lie and tell her my rent was on time, I was eating very well, my girlfriend hadn’t left me, I wasn’t behind on my car payments, and I didn’t drop out of college. I hated...
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Chocolate Pistachio a scene.
She was just passing through to the kitchen. “I’m getting myself an ice cream,” she said. “Do you want one?”
“Nah,” I said. I glanced at the phone, thoroughly uninterested in the magazine I had been reading. I put my hand on the receiver.
“Don’t,” she said.
“I wasn’t...
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Jesus Rollerblades
Cristina: Jesus Rollerblading Christ...
Cheryl: Jesus rollerblades. Cool.
Jesus is a pro at sports.
Does he have to wear shin pads?
No, he's Jesus! He only wears protective gear to set a good example for the kids.
You have an awesome imagination.
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45 Mercy Street
In my dream,
drilling into the marrow
of my entire bone,
my real dream,
I’m walking up and down Beacon Hill
searching for a street sign -
namely MERCY STREET.
Not there.
I try the Back Bay.
Not there.
Not there.
And yet I know the number.
45 Mercy Street.
I know the stained-glass window
of the foyer,
the three flights of the house
with its parquet floors.
I know the...
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Sunshine Under Water
a scene.
“I wish you didn’t hate me,” she said.
“Who hates you?” I said.
“You don’t look me in the eyes anymore,” she said. “You don’t return my calls. You always have some excuse not to spend time with me.”
“Surely, there has to be some rationale that’s a little less extreme than my hating you.”
“Of...
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