“Hot Mess” By: Andrea Pena
Sitting in a cloud of ethanol, gasping for air. I imagine the gases churning in the belly of the beast seated next to me. Could it be a sea of vomit, see...
Sitting in a cloud of ethanol, gasping for air. I imagine the gases churning in the belly of the beast seated next to me. Could it be a sea of vomit, see...
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SHE LOVED HIM because he worshiped her. Her style of love operated more out of loyalty than attraction, the way an owner is loyal to a dog that fawns and slobbe...
Andrew’s mom’s Volkswagen ground over the loose gravel as we pulled into an unmarked space in the far corner of the lot. Before Andrew even switched the car off...
He’ll pay me mint juleps for a Mississippi summer to see Purple Wave petunias bloom in crushed-velvet heat. To escape from cement and the city’s stale air for s...