Putting Things Together

She promised not to smoke if I just came over. When I got there, she stank of mouthwash and she didn’t know what to do with her hands.

You could always tell the state of Amanda’s life by the state of her lips. As she moved in to kiss my cheek, I saw that that those absurdly plump lips were bitten, chapped, and raw.

“I broke up with him,” she said, walking to the window as I sat on the broken futon.

Him being Jimmy, who was an asshole. But he was tall and crooked and supposedly some fascinatingly morbid musician.… Read the rest

Watching Them

From the top of the stairs, Tom watched as they were introduced.

He always knew Katherine would meet Diane at some point. Their circles of friends were far too close for them to stay strangers forever. Diane had been in his life for years and had been his lover once. He remembered those days and nights as he watched Diane kiss Katherine’s cheek and laughed at some joke she made. Katherine had that self deprecating charm that he imagined Diane would like.

Tom was in love with Katherine in a way he had never loved anyone. She took care of him.… Read the rest

Staple

The first page of a story was stapled to the back of a paper on economic reform in post soviet Russia.

Jason wasn’t sure if the story was for him or the professor or simply a mistake. He assumed the students knew that Jason was the one who really marked all the papers. Hell, he gave the lectures for the majority of the semester. Big name professors don’t do very much, teaching assistants do all the real work.

Still, the single page was like nothing Jason had ever seen in the context of Russian history, or more accurately contemporary Russian economic history.… Read the rest

His Hall

She missed his wall; his hall. That place he always threw her against when she came into his apartment.

She missed feeling small and afraid. She’d grown up too much, become too jaded, too brave to feel so little.

She missed the anxiety and hunger she felt walking down his block. She missed his pretty cock. She missed the fear that was particular to being in his elevator.

The fear wasn’t about what he’d do to her, she knew he would hurt her and fuck her and use her like a doll. The fear was that she wouldn’t be good enough, tough enough, pretty enough.… Read the rest

Final Meal

He sliced the exotic fruit with a huge knife on the perfect cutting board. Furry greenish gray splitting to show vivid green and neat circles of black seeds.

She sipped her coffee and watched him with annoyance. There was some kind of distracting formality he put into things that should be simple, like cutting up fruit. It was one of the million things that once seemed charming, but now annoyed the shit out of her.

She couldn’t watch any more as he took his oh-so-sharp knife and pealed the fur off of the thing. She went into the bathroom to finish putting on her makeup.… Read the rest

Something Borrowed

I looked down at my phone for the hundredth time, then up at the train as it chugged back into its underground tunnel. People rushed to leave and in moments I was alone on the platform, turned on and scared.

“Take the L train to Lorimer, get out and walk two blocks west…” the instructions started.

I got out of the subway station, looking around the foreign streets of Williamsburg or Greenpoint, I wasn’t sure which. There seemed to be nothing but bars, pizza places, and trendy little boutiques.

Everyone on the street looked hip and pretty. I looked down at my somewhat fashionable jeans and my high heels and suddenly I felt a little like Sandy at the end of Grease, but I walked on.… Read the rest

Impeccable Service

There was a peace in the courtyard of the hotel that he thought was gone from the world. A good strong pot of coffee wordlessly placed on his table, fresh fruit and fresh croissants, pristine white tablecloths under wide cerulean umbrellas which were in turn under a wide and cloudless azure sky.

He took his breakfast there every morning and between sips of coffee closed his eyes and listened for the not too distant sounds of the river. Waves lapping ancient stone bridges, the lonely cries of sea birds.… Read the rest

Forbidden

“Promise?” she whispered.

Her pink t-shirt was pulled up, as was her bra. Her thick black rimmed glasses were almost falling off and her bangs were in her eyes. Her breasts were big, pert, the imprint of the lace of her bra left pink and red patterns on the soft skin. Their eyes locked and she squeezed one breasts hard as her hips swayed. Her eyes were thickly rimmed around with black makeup and the corner of one eye was smeared.

She was straddling his legs as he laid back on the couch. She moved one hand down and grasped his cock again, biting her lip as she played with it.… Read the rest

The Boy

To call him handsome was a misnomer; he was pretty. A delicate face, a somewhat chiseled chin, warm brown eyes, always clean shaven and looking slightly younger than his twenty-something years. He had the grace of an old time actor. Cary Grant in leather pants.

The room was large, low ceilinged, all black and red in some budget approximation of chinoiserie. Black lacquered chairs and overstuffed embroidered couches. Gold dragons on the walls and paper lantern hanging from the ceiling.

The crowd was riding the line between a kink party and sex party. As I walked around and eyed the pretty boy it struck me that we’d all become disconnected from the vanilla world.… Read the rest

Transit of Venus

She came to me during the Transit of Venus.

The world was blue gray at dusk. I went to the beach to dry out, to forget, to find some peace.

I’d been a reporter when the war started. Which war? One of them; they weren’t numbered anymore. Some reaction to some act of horror and we sent a thousand boys to a desert somewhere. It wasn’t important anymore.

I was working for the AP, I’d traveled to Kuwait first, then Kutar. During one of the endless rides across the barren plains the world exploded into fire. I saw three kids melt in front of me.… Read the rest