She reached two hands to the back of her neck, I thought to unzip her dress and wanted to say wait, stop but then, like a magician, she produced one hair pin and another, and another. She’d been straddling my hips and now she let her full weight rest while she concentrated. Eight pins, silver and small, in a school on my chest.
Ping Pang Pong
Uncles cared for me
while Mom attended
I’ve been thinking about you a lot. I’ve decided to delete the history of us on Facebook. Before I unfriended you the other night, I went to your profile and clicked the ‘see friendship’ button. It told me that we became Facebook friends on a Sunday in March 2011. Continue reading
The lady recrosses her legs and stubs out her cigarette.
“Alright, boys,” she says. “You can come in now.” The “boys” are a surly painter and a uni student, neighbours from opposite sides of her apartment. The painter lives with his wife across the hall. The kid studies history.
The room is full of half-packed boxes and she’s got g-strings artistically placed on the furniture. There’s one strung over the back of the suede couch. Another is positioned on the coffee table. The boys pretend not to see them. They stand in her doorjamb, pensive. The kid doesn’t know what to do with his hands.
Kate Zahnleiter was raised by a single working mother and a television. She writes that “not a day goes by in which I’m unable to relate something which occurs in real life back to an episode of something I watched as a child, teenager or young adult.” In Life and My Box, Kate shares the lessons she has learned from TV.
One of my best friends is having a baby. Not as we speak (although maybe—I don’t know when you’re reading this) but soon. Very soon. Continue reading
I haven’t done a hard day’s work in over five years. Not since I walked out of my last shift at Subway Indooroopilly into the pub, asking my coworker to tell the boss in the morning that I had called the store and quit. As I drank that night I promised myself that I wouldn’t be a cog in someone else’s machine again. I owned myself and if I fucked up then it was all on me. I ended up fucking up a lot.