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After the OperaBrynn wants to marry me. She’s the only person in the entire world who can pull me up by my ears and say, “If you come to the opera, I’ll let you fuck me during intermission,” and mean it. I lay around a lot. Brynn calls that nihilism, and more than anything Brynn hates nihilism. She’s on a mission to prove that life is meaningful and that’s why I wonder sometimes what good marrying me will do. The first time I thought about suicide, I was eleven years old and it seemed easy enough. I had just watched Vertigo on cable and falling from some great height seemed like the way to go. I ventured to tAfter the Opera
by ~junkoholic
A Catch-22 SituationSmithy killed the man in cold blood, there was no doubt about that. Smithy figured that manslaughter would land him at least a life sentence, and that sat well with him. Living out his days in prison sounded like a peach of an ending. Free food, free lodging, and protection from all those crazy people on the news. And anyway, the murder wasn’t anything personal. The man was probably a good solid tax-paying citizen. Simply, he was bored and the man shortchanged him a nickel. Smithy’s partner-in-crime was a freckled ten-year-old Irish immigrant who was actually a twenty-five-year-old Jew who grew up in the boondocksA Catch-22 Situation
by ~junkoholic
BirthdayAda’s baby girl had twenty fingers and toes, but it was no use; her little heart stopped beating in the womb and there was nothing to do about it. One moment she was overripe, bulging, and the next, nothing at all. Salvador cried, and that’s what did it. Ada settled into the car with the ashes nestled between her thighs, crying for Salvador. It was like a second horrible birth, like something out of a horror film; birthing ashes. Home after ice cream – and Ada was happy for that. The ice cream more than home. Salvador said, “What do you want, Ada, anything,” and she said, “Ice cream.” SheBirthday
by ~junkoholic
The Turquoise DressGabriel woke with a heartache. It started him like a pinch. And then it wouldn’t go away, the heartache; it loitered around and pressed down on his chest like a person lying across the length of him. She had worn the turquoise dress and Gabriel loved that turquoise dress. It turned him on. He had almost erased it from his memory, too. Then she went and wore it without warning. Gabriel had lost himself in her coy display of sexuality – and in the middle of his third glass of wine he had told her that he still loved her. “No you don’t,” she had said. “But wheThe Turquoise Dress
by ~junkoholic
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: WA.
- Interests: Writing, film, music, theatre.
- Favourite movie: The Rocky Horror Picture Show.
- Favourite band or musician: Pink Floyd, Queen, David Bowie.
- Favourite genre of music: Alternative rock.
- Favourite poet or writer: John Irving, Truman Capote, Raymond Carver.
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"every one of us trying to forget.
we wish the dead blindness."
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La vita é bella.
P.S. I love your latest story, "But For the Robin". Bittersweet is the flavor of life!!!!
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Patrick: Oh my God. It even has a watermark.
Aw, thank you. I'm very happy you liked it. I'm fond of it myself. <3
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La vita é bella.
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Check me out: [link]
I've been pillaged!
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La vita é bella.
Aim: lilpocketbuddha
Msnm: divine_nathanica@hotmail.com
Hope I'm not being too forward. (I feel British)
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Check me out: [link]
I've never had Aim or Msnm -- but this might be the catalyst.
Here's my email: humble_abode@hotmail.com
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La vita é bella.
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