As Brooke plopped herself onto the couch, she balanced down to grab the New Yorker from the coffee table. She opened it up and flipped through “The Talk Of The Town” section not really reading anything at all. It had been one of those things she begged her mother to Read more…
Skyline I live in a rectangular container. It contains me well. I have a window. I look out sometimes. Most times I just see grey. Some days, I can see the skyline of what I think is still Los Angeles and the mountains beyond. At times I can hear Read more…
She had eggs frying in a skillet when he left for work. “Well at least she’s up,” he thought to himself. Looking for work was beginning to wear on her as she cascades between depression and nonsensical coping practices. She assigns herself menial tasks and chores around the house as Read more…