“Things” have a history that is swept under the rug because of their supposed commonality. Priceless art and linguistic masterpieces are praised for their originality, being held in museums and erected across the homes of the richest people on the planet. Shielded by glass cases and velvet ropes, they spend their time being viewed, not used…
I went to the alien sex cult meeting on a Sunday, but opted to wear the Monday pair from my days of the week underwear to act as a good luck charm and guarantee I’d make it to the next day…
“Do you dream in color?” My occupational therapist, Brad, once asked. “Of course,” I said, “Doesn’t everyone?”…
I’m the prime candidate for breast reduction surgery: back issues, self-diagnosed body dysmorphia, and a pair of tits that bust out of every age-appropriate top. From the day they started growing I planned to get them cut off, but I knew it had to be after I started birth control, just in case the hormones took my Gs to Es. I didn’t want just any birth control, I wanted the PERFECT birth control…
I met Jack Kerouac and Dean Moriarty last summer. It was my third week of being a bank teller in Waukesha, Wisconsin. First Federal Bank of Wisconsin was my mighty employer and I their ever-faithful employee…
I hope this letter finds you well. I know I’m not supposed to respond to your “reply all” rejection emails, but your tip-toed letter meant a lot to me. You’re my first rejection—a literary deflowering of sorts. If you must know, you’re my first…
The butterfly-shaped organ in my neck has got it all wrong. That’s what the doctor told me—that my butterfly flew in the wrong direction, did a few too many spins, and got stuck in a high up bough. In theory, I like my butterfly for her rebellion. In practice, I feel differently…
I’ve often been surprised by how people react when they discover I’m an only child. There’s usually an initial shock, the revelation that I’m more visibly well-adjusted than the stereotypical one. Then, a frown forms as they discern my childhood must have been rather lonely. Where I was lacking in friends, or brothers, I made up for with superheroes…
My father is a narcissist. That’s the simplest way to put it, though it took me years to reach that conclusion—a conclusion the rest of my family still struggles to accept…