The funniest thing I ever said was: I feel like I’m falling into a black hole.
I imagine this is how it feels to be a mother.
Sometimes the babies skitter across a beam, their needle claws clutching the wood, breath pulsing in their bellies, tail fringes like question marks.
She had a feeling, and now, she had to do something about it, didn’t she?
People move on from misunderstandings, her mother told the sisters. People don’t just destroy a family over a confusion.
Burritos are good when you’re eating them, then they’re gone. They are too much like all his past relationships.
And that’s how I spent an entire day living according to the rhythms of a bereaved turtle.
My secretary throws me my morning coffee through his window.
I thought about the straight, flat timeline of my life.
He is dirty, germs on his hands, in the gaps of his nails, something invisible and harmful. Something that harms her.