December 9, 2012 | Commercial Fiction
You are not the kind of guy who would be at a place like this at this time in the evening. But here you are, and you cannot... more
No one called it a plague at first. We weren’t the kind of people who used words like that, words heavy with the suggestion of some greater force, but the idea was there, almost from the beginning, skittering around in the back of my head, peeking out into the light.
On the day we come with Daddy down the mountain, Momma wakes us up early while Daddy's still asleep, pulls out white poster boards, markers from the closet, and together, we draw babies. Heads with black eyes, bodies curled, hands in mouths, a blue cord running from their bellies to somewhere off the page.
Roxane Gay and xTx
Morgan Freeman makes me cry.
This month’s column was going to be about quitting my last job, but what’s the point. It was... more
He was her first virgin, and he waited to do it in a bed.