HER FACE WAS DRAWN WITH CHARCOAL
I want a lot of things. I want a big black car. I want a bunch of money. I want to feel postmodern, relevant, sleepy. I want to eat the stuff that makes the clouds. I want to fuck the moonlight. I want to forget a whole lot of things. But there are also a few bits and pieces of …
ARIEL’S AUNTIE
I wonder what it’d be like to be popular. Are popular people happy? How long do they spend on the phone? How much do they spend on birthday presents? How many friends do they have on Facebook and Instagram and Twitter and Vine and whatever the hell else is out there? As I approach my late twenties I’ve come to …
LETTER FROM HEARTBREAK
… and I know it’s been a while, but I thought I’d write to you about everything in the world. I want you to know that I’m doing fine and that once in a while I read the work you send me, those poems and stories and things, and I want you to know that I’m proud of you. I …
A BAD CASE OF INSIGNIFICANCE
I had a thing with a girl once. Her name was Come Here. I met her at a car park, and I met her again at a party and I met her for the last time on her uncle’s kitchen floor. There was nothing wrong with her but there was nothing that right either. Her face curved strangely and she …
LETTER FROM THE RECEPTIONIST TO SAY GOODBYE
I know I’ve never written to you before. You know I’m not a writer. I could be a lot of things (and you would’ve realised that firsthand, hehe) but I’m definitely not a writer. How are you? How have you been? I know I asked you this the last time I saw you but no one ever says how they …
CIGARETTES AND CHOCOLATE DICK
I woke up one day and realised that things were terrible. I walked to the kitchen, smoked and called in sick. I ate an apple before heading to my car and driving off to Nowhere. I’d never driven around in the nine o’clock morning before; not in that way, anyway. Things were so bright and damp and the people in …
THE END OF A RELATIONSHIP AND THE BEGINNING OF NOTHING
She left me and I didn’t know what to do. After it happened I bought a meat pie, sat down, stared at a wall. I walked back home and searched for a book I could relate to but found nothing. I thought about drinking myself to freedom, but I had no money and wasn’t in the mood. “Why does this …