hanging boobs, loose lips others painted red with care too good to fuck me

The whole back seat smells like dried puke and sweat. My face stings, my knuckles throb, and blood pools in my mouth, electrifying a broken tooth or two. I taste the copper every time I swallow. My cheek remains stuck to the plastic seatback with the kind of old gum you never think about until…

Ah, Virginia City! A grand experiment in human coexistence, where the ingenuity of horseless chariots meets the timeless dilemma of “Where in the blazes do I leave this contraption?” If ever there was a job I would not care to assume, it is that of the town planner tasked with balancing parades and parking—an occupation…

The house holds its silence like breath on a bitter night, and I sit within it, frail against the vastness of winter pressing at the windows. There is eggnog with rum, no fire in the hearth, only the thin heat of the lamp, the scratch of my pen, and the weight of the stillness that…

The coffee was bland, weak, and watery, yet he sipped at it as though it might yield some clarity. Seated caddy-corner from his wife at the kitchen table, he tried not to look directly at her swollen face. She cried silently, tears streaking down her cheeks and falling, unheeded, into her lap. “What’s wrong?” he…

The lighthouse stood alone, tall and steady, its light slicing through the mist. It cut into the gray night, a small and wavering promise, but it was there. Below, waves slammed against the rocks. The sound filled the empty air, like the echoes inside me. Every night, I climbed those stairs, one after another, the…

Gunderson had detoured from Interstate 80 westbound onto U.S. 50 alternate at Fernley because of an accident blocking the road. The moon hung halfway between the mountains and its zenith, marking it early morning, before 3 a.m. He drove over the rise and started downhill when he saw the lights of a building half a…

The snow hit like the cosmic fist of a god who’d long since stopped caring, pelting her beat-up sedan with all the fury of a hangover that won’t quit. I was gunning it up the Donner Pass with the kind of reckless abandon you can only summon after spending weeks swimming in cheap whiskey, greasy…

You shake the box again, feeling the weight shift inside. It’s slight, almost nothing, but enough to hold your attention. You think of the possibilities—something small, perhaps something useful. Perhaps a pencil to scribble a note or mark a path. The thought of it makes you oddly hopeful, like how small things do when the…

The Nevada desert was as still as a forgotten land. It stretched under the morning sun, a palette of ochre and rust, with mountains layered in blue along the distant horizon. The wind drifted by, lazily rolling tumbleweeds like they were aimless wanderers. Tom Hastings was sitting atop his horse, watching them as he cleared…