Dave parked his car in the far corner of the liquor store lot and sat behind the wheel with the wipers on intermittent. Since being in recovery, he went there to put his life in perspective, where he’d been, where he was, where he might go. As he sat in the warm car watching the wipers push the rain around his windshield, his girlfriend’s car turned into the lot and parked in front of the neon Budweiser sign. What was she doing here? he wondered as his stomach knotted. Continue reading “Cheating”
She squeezed her bare knees together underneath the small café style table. “I already told you. I don’t do that anymore. I quit.” She was in her twenties, attractive in that private college sort of way.
“You don’t quit being a whore, baby. Once a whore always a whore.”
She’d been sitting alone in Starbucks studying for her beautician’s exam over a coffee when this former john sat down across from her. It happened sometimes, the johns from before when she worked Sandy Boulevard would recognize her during daylight hours, but the norm was that after their face flashed recognition, then shame and guilt, they’d look away and pretend she was just another stranger, which she was, aside from that she’d had their penises in her mouth. Continue reading “Faking It”
She was blonde. She was cute. She was sitting alone at the bar. The bartender would come over to her and say, So and so sitting over there wants to buy you a drink. She’d say, Fine by me, and order a nice glass of wine, something just above what she would normally pay for but not too expensive. It was a way to try new labels she might not like.
Within moments of her first sip, so and so from over there would be at her elbow saying something like, It’s not good to drink alone, or, Drinking alone is bad for you, or, I hate drinking alone. She didn’t mind drinking alone. It was better than drinking with someone she didn’t like. She would shoot So and so down, letting them know they didn’t have a chance, and they’d return to somewhere over there. But not the last one. Continue reading “The Mud Test”
The rain tapped against the bathroom window as Abby showered before getting ready for work. She was soaping her legs when she noticed a dark mark on the tile wall, like a swipe from a brown magic marker. That’s weird, how could that get there? she thought as she leaned in through the steam to get a closer look.
“Oh crap,” she said to herself with a start. “There’s a baby slug in my shower.” Continue reading “Slug Boy”
“I like raw sugar sprinkled on my nipples,” Heather said, smiling, her lips glistening with maple syrup from her pancakes. Her voice matched her name, subtle flowers covering a hillside. Her last name was Honeysuckle and her perfume scented the air around her like the flowers in spring. She took another bite of pancakes and chewed. People at work, including Jonathon, who sat across from her in Weber’s Diner, wondered why she wasn’t morbidly obese. She ate whatever she wanted whenever she wanted it; chocolate maple bars, fresh baked cinnamon rolls, banana splits overflowing with whipped cream. Instead she was a tall waif who eschewed flaunting her looks. Continue reading “Silver Elvis”