We’re in love by our third martini. Mine dirty, his with a twist. There is an excitement knowing how fast and temporary this will be. The waitstaff are talking about us. When he leans in closer to hear my voice more clearly, I smell violets and cigarettes on his collar, and lemon vodka on his breath. I subtly swoop toward him and we briefly touch cheeks. His skin is as soft as the summer atmosphere around us and the dim streetlights above. We...
You told me to write you a story. “I want it to be true, baby. I want you to tell me the truth about the things that you do.” You don’t know a thing about what I do. All you know is what I tell you. And over the past two weeks, since you responded to my craigslist ad, I’ve told you random things. Banter. “It’s interesting that you’re a surgeon, I manage a hedge fund. There aren’t a lot of women in finance. Isn’t it important to...
#mynypd (based on a true story) part 2 of 2 (part 1) There are scrubs at her feet. She pulls the dry fabric over her naked lower half and makes her way across a corridor into the bathroom. She closes the door, looks in the mirror, and for the first time - she realizes what they did to her. There's blood coming from her right ear. She reaches for a paper towel, holding back tears, she's in auto pilot. Cold water, apply pressure. Don't cry. Once...
#myNYPD : a two-part short story dedicated to every victim of police brutality, based on a true story. On March 09, 2014, she received the news that a best friend of hers, in Chile (where she resided from 2002 - 2011), committed suicide. Or fell. One or the other. She could email someone for more information. Except she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t cry. She looked out the window and tried to forget. On the evening of Friday, Marchl 11, at...
pattern disruption I met you in the winter on my third day of Vivaldi’s Summer. I tend to find ways in my mind to disrupt ordinary patterns; like the dreary push that a cold New York City day in January might bestow upon a soul. Summer helped that. Vivaldi usually solves most of my problems. I was writing when we met. I told you I was on my second drink that day, when it was really my fifth. You sat next to me at the bar and asked what I was...