I still think about him, he says, the ash of his cigarette flaking off near my shoe. As we all do, I shrug, tired of the runaround. We all think of him. Every day probably. I don't. I shrug again - but it feels forced. Well however much then; we all do. I mean, I... Continue Reading →
It's 8:30-something AM and Riley and I are sitting in the dorm cafeteria before class. "There's this guy," he said that morning. "He looks like him." Oh yeah? I said, biting into a hardened bagel. Bradley had been dead for a couple of months. I made a face; shaking out the crumbs from my sweater.... Continue Reading →
Lindsey Hall Writes 