I wanted to give something to him. I wanted him to leave me feeling better about himself than he had before we met, better than he had ever felt. Perhaps I was reacting to the general post-bar malaise that afflicts so many who leave the house on Friday night looking for affirmation and return on Saturday morning with a renewed disgust for humanity and an empty wallet...
Dealership
The waiting room of the Mercedes dealership is next level. Everything sparkles. They’ve got expensive yet free coffee. They’ve got fresh, colourful donuts. The magazines are organized and choreographed with perfect detail. Maybe, I’m just a little too excited to be inside. We’ve spent lots of time in gas stations and convenience stores, but this feels like a treat. I eat two more donuts. Salted caramel, and something with a shitload of sprinkles.
Pilfered in Flash Fiction
If I were a retail store...
A “Why You Should Read Sister Carrie” Flash Fiction
I know Sister Carrie, because Dreiser has allowed me to know her.
Afterbirth
Noel shouldered through the door, lingering in the threshold as she wiped bloody hands on bloodier apron.
The air that he breathes
On their way to the school bus stop his boys run ahead to an adventure of burnt logs they call "The Fires" beside a huge Australian river red gum stump they clamber up, inventing games.