Stories

What We Do With Our Bodies – Stephen Mortland

     Each guest arrived at an agreement with Shy privately. Some were paying, but I wasn’t. She
never asked for money from me, and I didn’t have any to offer. I slept on a couch on the porch. She told me I could sleep inside, but I preferred things the way they were.
     The porch was screened in, and I easily imagined it a room of my own. The other guests returned to the house most nights after I’d already gone to sleep.

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Stories

Fever – Renny Ramone

Nine cardboard boxes stacked on my Mother’s doorstep. She sent them here knowing I’d have no other place to go, at least nowhere with a decent shower head. I knew what was inside the boxes; I knew exactly what was inside those fucking boxes. That’s why I didn’t bother shifting the transmission into park. I wasn’t ready for any of this shit so I let my foot off the break and continued down the crescent driveway that trailed my Mother’s private door to and from the public street.

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Stories

Chicory Knife Slave – Bibles Appropouture

If I don’t continue along the progressive path then how can you expect me to stay alive? I’ve got to be forever vigilant and always on the case because the mystery never stops unfolding. There are clues everywhere, scattered through invisible cities: the apple in my eye in the navel of the love of my life. Musette. And don’t even get me started on Penelope, roller skating in the park,

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Stories

The Kayfabe – William Bardot

Baldo Babikov broke Vicky Paine’s heart. Now her brother and me are going to give Baldo the smackdown for it. Randy would do anything for his sister. He’s my best friend, but he’d kill me in a heartbeat if Vicky asked him to. He’s outlined the inequalities of our friendship in perfect detail. It goes: Vicky > Pamela Anderson > Me. At least I come before his parents, but it’s non-fixed.

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