I am 56. The internet says I will probably live — on average — to 81.4. That feels like at some point in April of my 81st year; I will die. That’s a good month to die. It’s the same time of the year when people have hope because winter…

Darryl slid three quarters, one quarter at a time, into the vending machine and weighed his options. Cli-uh-clunk. Cli-uh-clunk. Cli-uh-clunk. His options weren’t looking good. Seventy-five cents buys you jack shit apparently. Sure, in 2004, he could get a can of Coke, but not in 2020. Fifty cents more, and…

Last week I ate a roost of butterflies against my will. My mouth was closed, but they found a way in through my neural pathways when I saw you. They took a deep dive into my bloodstream that flowed directly into my heart, jumped onto an airstream coming from my…

I don’t know how to sit still for long. I like to flee when it gets unbearable. I’m not ready to process anything because it feels like nothing matters except how I feel and I can’t remember if I know how to feel or if that is in fact, feeling. …

First, he ate four clementines. They might have been satsumas. It’s hard to tell. Then he rummaged through his Army green rucksack. I call it a rucksack because it was one of those vintage military cloth backpacks, straight out of a WWII film produced by Steven Spielberg starring Tom Hanks…