Overly personal ramblings and short stories on things consuming me.
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At night Kameron would pull up outside my house, leave his truck running, text me, and wait for me to crawl out the second-story window.
Men
+1
You thought about rain and swaying trees; the way the world looks right after a storm: gray and slightly shaken, but still whole.
At night we’d hang out at the park behind his house, drinking IPAs and tossing rocks at the tennis court fencing until he got bored and went home to have sex.
In the summer we drive around, listening to Remember Sports, and searching for a reasonably priced second-hand keyboard so you can pick up a new hobby. Here, the summers stretch on for far too long: the bare blue sky hanging over our heads with quiet contempt.
Fiction
At 32, I’ve been spending more time buying and caring for plants. I’ve got 30+ or so scattered around my house now, and I’ll probably grab more as these start to die or wilt or move on to the next cycle of their lives.
Part one, because this story is pretty long.
