I have never been here before. I smell newness

  • I have never been here before. I smell newness that doesn't fit and taste fear on the lips of the woman I just made love to under the verandah. Tulips and cigarettes and loathing

  • and the smell of jasmine. That scent would be with me forever. That, and couple of scars. There were raccoons beneath her porch. Our time was short. She watched me

  • totally not give a fuck about her pastoral bullshit. I was a Wall Street type who guzzled Diet Rockstar and chewed energy gum, but she loved me because

  • I was raking it in big-time and she figured I'd probably burn out and die young. So I guess it wasn't so much 'love' as it was 'stomach for as little time as possible'. Her garden

  • path was edged with thorns. I kept up with my life in the fast lane while she stood at the side of the road placing bets in the death pool. Her common sense was a radar and I was a

  • counterfeit radar maker. I threw her life astray like Gary Dell'abate. What she didn't know was I needed her like a simile needs the words "like" or "as". She was the jelly to my

  • coarse plasticine, the glycerol to my bitter cookies, and the asphyxiation to my arousal. She also payed for my Ebony subscription, so when she said she was "going out,"

  • I knew where I would find her. There was only one truck stop bathroom in the whole state that had what she was looking for. So I greased up my holes and prepared for the worst.

  • I found her in the back stall. I could hear her singing. Humming to herself as she went to work. Grafitti covered the walls, and the air stank of vomit and hot

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