At Least They're Committed

He has pushed back a “guest” office chair to accommodate his long legs. I take quick note, unsurprised, and burst into conversation, plop down my bags, slide out of my coat and let it fall to the carpet all before he has the chance to regale me with his brilliant words of wisdom. “I smell… Read more

Fuck this shit. I didn’t want to go in the first place. Here I am being a trooper after last year, prepped and ready, Scarlet Letter A in place, and you fucking left me. You were supposed to look after me, but you left me. It’s Dec. 20. How fitting. And you left me. I… Read more

I had something really nice here, but I took it down because I was wrong. Read more

Slightly propped on the couch Saturday with a sweaty guy on top of me I recalled how nearly 30 years ago I’d confessed to my editor that I had no interest in dating or sex because the thought of some sweaty guy grinding on top of me was repulsive. I had not dated for two… Read more

He was skinny and 60something and smoking in the open air on the porch of the dive bar. You know how I feel about smokers. His flesh was pasty white and he was taller than the man yesterday and his hair was brittle and thin and more pale than his skin. He was layered in weathered flannel… Read more

The drive was amazing and the truck was a trooper. Eight hours = four hours to Grand Junction; four hours home. Precious time all alone to listen to my music, stare at the white stripes of the road in the nighttime and the dried-up countryside during the day. Eight hours — divided into two days… Read more