I need to find a sex worker bad. It’s not for me, I promise you; it’s for a friend. My partner, Rupert. Mr. Fluffernutter, if you’re nasty, which in this case wouldn’t be a bad thing.
He’s been a little off lately, and I believe I know why. No, it’s not what you’re thinking. He just needs a little female… gaze? Perspective? Wait, I got it—audience—to get him out of his funk. We tend to perform for the rougher sex, and there’s little joy in Broville.
I’m finding that there’s a huge chasm between needing a sex worker and finding one. I miss the time when you could stroll Hollywood Boulevard and run into a Julia Roberts, Melanie Griffith, or Laura San Giacomo. Them were the good ole days when affordable, attractive prostitutes were on every corner.…
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I stumbled on the broadcast by chance, a series of disjointed words on an army frequency nearly sixty years old. I was in the Library of Congress’ lab researching radio transmissions for my Master’s. Dusty records, military logs, and the faint smell of old paper surrounded me. I’d grown accustomed to the monotony of it all when the voice broke through the buzz and hiss: “This is Private Lars Holmgren, bravo 2 , 6 alpha . . . Charlie closing . . . need indirect . . . map grid—”
My breath caught. Private Lars Holmgren. That name was familiar—too familiar. My grandfather’s older brother. My mother’s uncle. She told me about him when I was a child. He was a dreamer, she said, the poet of the family.…
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Tailing an unsuspecting fugitive on Route 93, just north of Kingman, Arizona, Maddy passed a wrecked car. The vehicle, an older model, four door, dark green sedan, had settled on its roof, resembling an upside-down turtle. Black smoke billowed, rising into the late afternoon sky. The low, looming sun resembled an overripe blood orange.
“Looks like I’ll have to catch up to Lester another time,” Maddy said.
She pulled her Yamaha motorbike to the side of the road and surveyed the wreckage. “Oh, man…”
A teenage girl crawled through the space where the driver’s side window had been. The two adults looked like mangled ragdolls.
Maddy knelt next to the lone survivor. She had long black hair and multicolored bangles on a badly bruised right arm.…
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“Last night? I dreamt of something called Competitive Nut. You go into a store with an exotic nut, bring a few in a little box,” I explained. “They clean them off for you… to your specifications of course… and you eat it.”
“What do you mean by exotic?” She gave me a smile. “Maybe because I was there?”
“No,” I said. “You weren’t there.”
I remembered another dream from since I had last seen her. It was at work, in her office, but she wasn’t in that one either. Instead, a kid I’d grown up with and who I hadn’t thought about in a long time was in the dream, working where she worked, her office, at her white board.
“OK, my turn,” she said. “We’re at a country club, playing golf. …
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When the gods want to punish us, they answer our prayers.
Oscar Wilde
The Senior Center science class softened my recent widowhood—we read ScienceNews, a weekly magazine filled with mid-level science sophistication. The class offered me structure and companionship.
The medical section was placed after the astronomy update that explained the expanding universe and the ripples in spacetime caused by colliding black holes. We often skipped the ripples and jumped to the human evolution side of history, especially our interactions with our Neanderthal cousins, who ruled the planet for 100,000 years before we nudged them out of existence. Next came the article about a new drug for the treatment of progeria. The story caught my attention, like spotting the first hummingbird of spring kissing my trumpet honeysuckles.…
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“You will be famous,” is the first thing I remember my mother telling me. I had no idea how true that was. I walt through school my shoes squeaking on the floor, a bodyguard on my right, I had no idea what it meant, I just thought he was my friend. Other children couldn’t come near me, I stayed inside and watched them run, even the teacher had left the room. An unfamiliar feeling curled in my gut; I would later recognise it as loneliness. I pushed it away I didn’t know it then but I would be doing that often.
The next few years passed in much the same manner; I think I was about ten when I realised what all this meant. I was in history class, I was related to everyone we learnt about, from presidents of old to Hollywood movie stars, they were all family.…
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I’m not drunk, drunk. Not seeing double, drunk. Not gonna walk in a straight line though. Good thing I’m sitting down. I dunno, it’s been a long weekend. Whose idea was it to go from the bachelor party straight to the wedding? That one’s not on me.
Ow, what just poked me – oh… oh. Oh God, Kyle’s handing me the mic, he’s smiling at me oh my God. I know I’m not the best man but I’d be honored to make a speech. What do I even say? Uh oh, I’m standing up. Here goes nothing…
“Hey, I don’t really have much to say, but Kyle’s been my best friend since middle school and… and I love you man.” People clap. Kyle’s parents are smiling at me. …
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