my laptop on the bed and my coffee already going cold
rough everything that came up, both the studio website, two magazine features, one interview fr
st was his tattoo artistic work, with different skin and ink, but
he was from, nothing about family, no digital footprint. That was when
d pages, not even a forum post. I kept clicking, kept expecting
search results didn't help. People didn't look like that by accide
car pulled out at ten o'clock in the night.
hat didn't belong. Her closet next, the shelf above the rail where she kept things she didn't need often. A shoebox of ol
flat, about the size of a hardcover book, and I didn't recognize it. I fel
-
er, a little flower gone brown at the edges already,
wasn't my mother's, the letters precise in a
want to examine too closely. I found a connection bet
th my back against the bed frame
Then six months ago she'd met Dorian, and three months after that she was engaged. I'd thought it was fast at the time, but I
a man that I've ha
be him. Upon all th
second before he pulled himself back together. I'd read it as shock. I'd assumed we were both b
at if
y mother's house hadn'
irs and my mother, started he
n in the mirror above my desk
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