All tagged LOL

Candy Mouths Are Made of Wax

“Tell me something nobody else knows about you,” he says, sitting across from you at the romantic table. In most settings, he looks like a boy, but sometimes he looks like a man, or a cat, or a telephone pole. He looks past your left ear when he speaks, like your eyes are the production assistant’s camera, like your eyes are the burning loins red foxglove on the mantel.

Mudburgers and Gravy

Fat separating on the warm asphalt, deep-fried, steaming burger-broth glistening, the sugar-popped neon candy crystals from the service counter, just all of it getting under fingernails of sticky hands, sticky cheeks, sticky teeth. Biscuits in concrete-colored gravy. Lots of biscuits in concrete-colored gravy.


Sarah still believed she could make it off the bus without pissing herself. The doors were right there and if she could somehow unclench long enough to propel her body to the front of the bus, maybe she could haul ass off of it in time. On nights like this one, after surviving the hellish shift that she had, Sarah figured karma owed her one. Shit, her whole life was already like one of those Cracker Jack prizes—useless crap getting in the way of what you’re really after.

On Being a Whiter

Did you always want to be a whiter?

Not always. But from a young age I did have a “creative spark,” or so my parents tell me. First it was drawing, then I wanted to make video games. In high school I wanted to white fantasy. But then I got older and I went to college and I was introduced to Hemingway and Faulkner and O’Connor and all the greats, and slowly I began to realize: I wanted to white literature.


“We’re much more than a storage company,” I said.

This is how they make us answer the phone. Not, “Hello, we’re much more than a storage company.” Just the last part. I’ve been here for three days now, and not once have I been greeted with anything but confusion. Usually, they just say, “Hello?” as if I haven’t spoken at all. Often, they hang up.

Somewhere Between There and Here

Hi, baby. I am calling you because I love you and I’m a little bit tipsy-topsy, and I don’t know where my bus went! We found out that another house down the block was having a Halloween party too, and so a bunch of us decided to go, but I wasn’t really able to walk super fast in my bus, so I took it off, and I was holding it as we walked—I was holding it for sure, and now we’re here and…and I just don’t have the slightest clue where it is! Did I drop it? I can’t believe I lost my bus!

Unlosing Your Virginity

Start by renegotiating your definition of the word virgin, which is defined by Merriam-Webster as “a person who has not had sexual intercourse.” This definition does not leave much room for individual interpretation. You can reconcile the definition for your personal use by adding or omitting a few words here or there.

Pontus, Missouri

The diner was closed. The general store was open but empty. She tried the tavern—no luck, too early. There was little else to this little city. The church was, quite possibly, the most decrepit building she had ever seen, and the schoolhouse… Well.