Your mother always speaks of the scraps she got into as a girl the way other folks talk about Christmas. Nostalgic as she recalls waiting outside on some poor girl’s front porch, shoulders relaxed, light on her toes, fists ready to bloom.
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The first date is tits. You want to lay your head on them and put your dick between them and suckle at them like the cherry in a Shirley Temple. You don’t mind that my nails aren’t long enough to scratch.
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The Hibernation is mandatory. The Hibernation lasts the month of July. Outdoor air temperatures average 135 degrees Fahrenheit. People die. Especially people who are unfit.
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One rainy Tuesday morning, Mrs. Tsubaki farted loudly before her second-grade class. It happened during work time, and the room was stiller than usual.
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Of all the things the woman had done to decorate her dirt patch of a front yard there on Dunning Avenue, she was proudest of the glittery store-bought card she’d taped to the plastic burro’s nose.
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After the daughter’s fourth miscarriage, her mother flies across the country to introduce her to the ancestors, the ones whose bones rest somewhere in the hills of deep Mexico. She thinks she is ready, but she is not. Nothing has prepared her for this.
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Welcome to Snooze™. I am Ura, your trusted sleep guide. For this session, I will ferry you to a warm place where sleep awaits you. Though your bones are tired and your body weary, they are worthy of rest.
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They agreed. They agreed not to say “I love you” anymore. He slapped the flaccid slice of pizza on the top of the overstuffed garbage.
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