It's soothing being in motion, headed somewhere. I like watching the people we pass who also can't sleep. I like the noises, the screech as the bus lurches to a stop, the door letting out like a gasp.
Our running joke: anniversary cards that said, Congrats on being halfway through our marriage! Does it mean something good or bad that neither of us pointed out by how many years, with that last card, we’d overshot?
The Booby Trap was a club with two knocker-shaped domes that you could see from the highway. It wasn’t actually called the Booby Trap anymore. It was open Tuesdays.
I was twenty-one and had only ever been on one first date before (my boyfriend), so I can’t explain how wonderful it was to have a woman order me a bottle of wine.
Boone and I are crunching ice beneath our boots, walking a pitbull named Dorothy. The dog isn’t mine, or Boone’s either. She belongs to a guy I just met, a guy with porno pin-ups in his kitchen, glossy pretzels of hairless flesh thumbtacked to the blistered wallpaper. A guy who said he’d trade Boone a dime bag for walking the dog because It’s cold as tits out there.
Pasadena, California. The Heisman winner stands in the tunnel looking out. He is big for a tailback. Standing 6’1” and a shade over two hundred twenty pounds. His body is an architectural structure. Despite his towering eminence his steps are gentle, humbled...
I got my dream job—social media assistant at DiPaulo’s, the world’s second-largest producer of authentic Italian pasta sauces.
It was a big responsibility. I wrote posts on Facebook and Tumblr and posted pictures of the sauce on Instagram. But most of all, there was Twitter. For Twitter, I created Pauley...
Just before leaving forever, little Jack Morton’s father bought a small red bicycle with removable training wheels and told Jack that the man of the house needed his wheels. His father said this with tears in his eyes and pressed hard whiskers against Jack’s cheek. For this reason, the bicycle was Jack’s favorite possession even before his feet could reach the pedals. Anne, Jack’s mother, thought it was a dumb idea to give a boy an oversized bike...