He stared at me, hidden and protected by all the dropped heads looking at their phones in the crowd. He looked like an officer, but most white men do to me. He had a gun snuggling against his hip though. But he didn’t have a uniform on, just a faded shirt that said FBI: Female… Continue reading Black-handed
He couldn’t see her in the tiny storage closet, but he could smell her. She smelled like home. Not his home, which reeked of greasy pizza boxes and inside-out underwear, but home. She smelled of sweet pea body wash and the mint chocolate-chip gum she always kept a pack of in her purse. That was… Continue reading In a Storage Closet in Paris.
He rolled over away from her, the thick and damp lint-invaded plaid fleece clinging to his naked, red, sweaty rolls. He liked to light a cigarette after their sessions to push the musty and personal smell of body parts out of the room. After the first anxious drag of the hot mesmerizing tobacco, his stomach… Continue reading Different Drugs.
Work was cancelled today, so I took a detour to Alexander Book Company which is right across the street from the bus stop. I looked through a shelf of books and decided to see if they had a book I’ve been stalking on Amazon for months, but too cheap to buy. I asked them… Continue reading How I Ended Up with Frank Bill.
Every second Saturday, the Friends of the San Francisco Public Library hold a dollar book sale. Absolutely everything is a dollar. I went with the change in my wallet, which was $2.36. It took so much self-control to limit myself to two books and not pull out my debit card and spend more than I… Continue reading Adventures of a Bookworm: Two Wrinkled Dollars, Two Priceless Books.
“Class, we have a new student joining us from…where are you from again sir?” The teacher asked the boy standing there. He’s tall and skinny with pale skin, eyes so blue and bright they could hurt your eyes, and a bald head. But, even with a bald head he’s gorgeous. He looks so innocent. “Um,… Continue reading Foreign