Month: April 2017

Fruit Cake Blues

It was a Saturday night in early September when the fruit wars began. They were difficult times. Times when people ate kale un-ironically and served avocado ice cream as dessert. My best friend Bill met Linda and I at the door. He ushered us into the house and seated us at the table. His wife, Susan, puttered around the kitchen. “Dinner in a jiff,” she said. Bill mixed drinks. He sloshed liquids and dropped olives like atom bombs into chiseled martini glasses. My wife crossed her legs. The lacy hem of her slip caught my eye and I held...

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Phone Calls from Loretta

The South Side Strangler escapes from jail, and my friend Loretta runs off and marries him. She waited outside the jail in her mother’s Honda, engine idling. She touched up her lipstick in the rearview mirror, slid over into the passenger seat when he came running out of the jail, feet stuttering in his manacles. She was the one who leaned out the window and shouted: You’ll never catch us, coppers! The newspapers all said. She sends me pictures from their wedding in Las Vegas. The South Side Strangler looks boyishly happy. There’s one picture where he’s got his...

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The J.S.A.D.D.C. Presents: Sunshine, Lakeside

Something cold nudged Janna’s sun-soaked arm and she startled, swiveling as tenderly as a person can in a fold-up beach chair. She squinted to make out the outline of Aaron Mendelsohn, Shira’s younger brother, holding out a juice box. “Here,” he said. “Hydrate.” She kept her eyes on him as she took it. His features were starting to fill in, and she wanted to get a look at him—see how today was gonna go. “Mo-ther-fucker I am hung over,” he said, lowering himself gingerly onto the dock. “How are you even upright?” She watched as he lay all the...

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I Am Two

It is a strange thing to be two people at once. To shift, transform, almost as soon as I walk into the open air of the city. Some call it a mask and I suppose it could be called that in the sense that I alternate between both people. But for me it’s more than a changing of face or of apparel. It is an alternate identity, a girl with my name and my body who enjoys the things I hate, and who hates the things I enjoy. She smiles as she leaves my home, a façade of happiness...

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The Dark Is a Shadow Among Friends

Back when political discourse still got me hot, my sex friend Grant would launch into passionate speeches about Bill Hicks. It was like the act of coming opened the levies of his liberal-leaning subconscious. He was a pioneer of truth in a world built on obfuscation and subterfuge, he would gasp. Why do the good ones, the bold ones, the ones who light the way always die young? I soaked up everything he said like red wine infusing the fibres of a beige rug. I wanted to tell him my truth: that my shadow wanted to devour me whole....

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