Your reflection briefly passes on the blank television screen. The lights are off, which makes it that much more eerie. "Carol?" I call towards the doorway from my bathroom. Wet and cold, dripping with water fresh from the shower; I feel so vulnerable. The reflection shows again, walking past the lighted doorway mirroring me. A … Continue reading Your Face Is Momentary.
His brown aviator glasses hanging carelessly from the second button down. Beige cargo shorts and sandals with black socks; his tan line looks recent.
“What do you wanna do, baby?” Shiella says, caressing his thigh with her right hand. Her left goes up to his arm, slowly moving her hand back and forth across his skin. She leans in close to him, lightly kissing his neck next to the pink fabric of his shirt.
He allows himself the briefest of grins, enjoying the little triumph at someone else’s cost.
I let him do it. He's won, I'm broken. There's no use in fighting it anymore. I don't even cry out.
She's still staring at Joey as she slides it forward to their side of the counter.
So many American flag ensembles pulled tight over potbellies and pale, cellulite legs jiggling to and fro.