Someone Else's Underwear

When he handed them to me, that sticky, Brooklyn morning - I was crouched naked next to his bed, fishing through my over-sized purse for concealer. Down the street, the M train screeched to a stop at the Knickerbocker platform. Shit, I mumbled - fumbling through makeup brushes. I'd be late for work. We had... Continue Reading →

Heroin

It’s 8:30pm on a Sunday when a call from an unknown number pierces my eardrum. Blocked Caller, it reads. What sneaky bastard did I ghost off Tinder? Something about the loneliness of a New York Sunday persuades me to answer. “Hello,” I say, putting on my Publicist coo.   A surprised voice: “Lindsey?” Christ, I... Continue Reading →

Create a website or blog at WordPress.com

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: