Stories

the graveyard was drunk during this deep winter's day there was no snow, but everything was dry - and cold I looked up, beyond the knightly fence that shot up in crescent spikes, felt the rush of invisible wind go up my spine

I would be perfect. But there was a problem- I lacked efficacy in the simplest of tasks- I was wrong for stepping right, for everyone would steer left. The things I said were stupid, the things I thought irrelevant to all in my circle. the only thing I could do was listen and be perfect at it

I can hear your nails chipping away at the torn plaster underneath the table.

my devotion to your lifestyle no longer exists someone doesn't just go through that and come out still enslaved to the facade of duty i have no gender, i have no furniture i walk into my temporary apartment, the empty space that is a bridge before i renounce you in full because im in no rush to leave, now that i understand that it was never possible for me to go back the second i wished to be free

a mattress took shape on the gulf my hair was floating on the water, but i was so tired that I began to make gurgling noises the water was entering my throat because part of my hair was in the water I tried to pull it out, but it was too late

i fell on the ground without the satisfaction of a thud, and I had already fallen, swollen, but it felt like I was still falling super slow and into the earth, a vacuum of air pulling me down was really mud, but one cannot fall in a swamp, they can sink but here I was, and I tried my hardest to reach my family but I had been banished to the unknown, falling over time, as if forgotten torpidly

i was sitting at the table with my friends. and one of them ordered their slice with extra cheese, with a remark that she means to go on a diet as the only acceptable assurance to make up for the crime