We decided to decouple. That was what people were calling it when you didn’t scream or cry, or when you only did those things in the shower or your car. It was the winter of ’09, and many of our friends were abandoning Mankato for single, discrete lives in warmer climates.
Read MoreThe whole congregation, apart from a few noobs recruited at last night’s street-preach, knows the story of Mary Magdalene washing Christ’s feet with her tears. How on bended knee she wiped them clean with those hot locks of hers. Pastor Bob lingers on their perfumed, ropey coils.
Read MoreReally, without Ymelda’s infinite eels, the only protein on the island was SPAM and corned beef, and those cans were getting scarce. Some grew their own rice and taro, but there was never enough to go around.
Read MoreOn our third date, Dan suggested we introduce our inner children into our sex lives. We were drinking whiskey on his uncomfortable sofa that was just two hard pieces coming together at a surprising angle.
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