February 2012
4 posts
This is an excerpt from a story I am writing.
Gretchen sits at the table, alone (and that’s fine, really, that’s fine) reading and waiting for her food to come. She’s sitting on the outdoor patio and the sun is beginning to set, making it hard for her to see the words in her book, but she manages. It’s mid-summer in New York and the weather is gorgeous. Leaving with the sun is the sticky, miserable humidity of the day, replaced by a...
I don’t why, but something tonight told me that I...
This is a thing I wrote after reading Infinite...
When I was let’s call it ten years old, I became (briefly) obsessed with having my own Hobbes, like Calvin did. A stuffed tiger that looked like an innocuous stuffed tiger but was, it turned out, y’know a friend. I had never had an imaginary friend, so I don’t know why I expected this gamble to go my way, but what the heck, I figured. (Heck is a great word when you’re ten. Heck is toeing the line...
