Happy Hour
Chapter 6: What a blessing to have figured it out, to be here once again at The Roses for this evening sun–though it’s funny I hardly remember leaving last night. Scratch that I don’t remember at all–was I really that wasted?
unhome
Chapter Five: “Wait, wait…” I said. “Are you calling the police?” to which they nodded, the phone already pressed to their ear.
“No, please don’t do that. Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” I said, “I’m not totally sure it was real.”
white shirts
Jesse James (who now goes by the name Lil Mountain) showed up on my windowsill, skinny and inspired and wearing an ET mask as he busted the whole scope of the thing even wider, so that now I don’t know who is on what side, and if there are even sides at all.
Dean & The Golden Ratio
Chapter 4: The place would either be a claustrophobic closet or a palace of unimaginable dimensions, expanding and contracted according to its own specific physics...but there was also a feeling, unshakeable at times, that something was pushing back at me.
love is telepathic
Instead of coldly calculating the correct emotional response, the most human among us are laughing out loud at the saddest parts and living strange lives as they forever reach for the golden string.
Nada & the New Style
Chapter 3: No news, no obligations, no parties to try and pull myself together for. Just the two of us, me helping her create a revolution with art, like lassoing a satellite spun out of orbit, and beaming its frequency into the darkness.
