He started keeping a baseball bat by the front door, in the basket with the umbrellas and the yoga mats.
How attention in girlhood can go so quickly bad.
The city was as new to them now as they’d been to each other back then.
This is my fault, I realize as I stand in the cold not knowing whether to turn right or left, I’m always losing things.
Not that bloodbath story, but the small story. The meanwhile across town story.
Every interaction feels risky these days because of how novel they’ve become.
It has always been there because that stuff doesn’t go away.
He hopes they understood, better than he, why he came here.
Did you know wives would occasionally kill their husbands with bulbs mistaken for onions?
Alligators were fast but this was different.