Baby Cakes
Jon Stuart Peterson
“Baby Cakes.” I don’t think she has ever called me that.
“Baby Cakes.” I don’t think she has ever called me that.
There is nothing, Lois says, gayer than spelunking.
He wondered, "What if I never get out of the shower?" and just like that he never did.
Being able to walk in a straight line is not something Yoda had ever taught himself to appreciate. The sidewalks on Coruscant, on Alderaan, even on Kashyyyk, they took the user where they wanted to go...
Every day we both live.
There were no ways around. There was reverse, but that was its own failure.
She is thinking that when you make love, your brain opens, and everyone knows what you are thinking, and you know what everyone else is thinking, so your husband knows what you are thinking and can control you.
Greg listened to hold music while rereading the suicide note.
I told him about Nebraska and how it was a dried up ancient ocean bed, how farmers harvested corn and clicks, how there might be kings buried under the freshly tilled soil or angels who dusted the August crops.
She imagined walking barefoot across the grass in the backyard, sitting in the hammock and reading that book her teacher from graduate school had published.
The landscape was a flat dimension, no mountains or hills. Farmland and ramshackle homes that looked like collages, you could see the years in them.
Usually I’d just as soon look away from cruelty, but Lemuel flung that chicken square at my face and my first instinct was to swat her, fretting her clipped wings and shrieking like a raspy old woman, down on the heads of the others. Simple reflex.
We laughed when he called it a “Shake-n-Bake,” but then looked nervously around the room; the crew veterans weren’t laughing.
Charlie would never cannibalize me; he’d have nothing to eat.
This is the Santa crushing it on Etsy.
This is the Santa denied unemployment.
This is the Santa whose Zoom background brought his therapist to tears.
This Santa doesn’t give a shit—he’s a
First, I visited my father’s house. After I returned home, my mother asked me to bring her there in the dark of night. We got on the highway, drove north, then took the second exit, but that was all I
Is this new relationship self-sabotage in disguise, or is it the cure?
Garielle's longest, most peculiar, most particularized book. A sure-to-be collector's item. Not be be missed!