Showing results for March, 2023
One day at the school for disturbed children I attended, a boy lit his pubes on fire.
Obsession is obsession is obsession, obsession is relatable; I am constantly obsessed with things, more accurately, I am constantly becoming obsessed with people.
In the mornings, the woman sees her husband off to work in her night dress, sometimes with curlers in her hair. After he leaves, she always lights a cigarette and stands with the glass-paned storm door cracked open. I can tell the inside of their house smells like knock-off Estée Lauder and menthol smoke.