“Chasing” by Carly Milne
I didn’t know he was hooked on smack when I moved in. That confession came two nights later . . .
I didn’t know he was hooked on smack when I moved in. That confession came two nights later . . .
Never take a job in summer—that’s rule one. Rule two is never trust anyone. They have that rule all over, but rule one, that’s my thing. No one thinks straight in summer. You can’t rely on anyone after November . . .
I light my cigarette lovingly, laughingly, with a light purple lighter. Burn, baby, burn . . .
Mama and Papa’s love was magic! Their first kiss was magic. Their wedding kiss was magic. The kiss that made Mimi was magic.
One snowy morning, Papa and Mama shared a good morning kiss that turned magical. Their hearts and other parts warmed. Pajamas were shed. Heat built. Suddenly . . .
Elizabeth heard the door bang and footsteps clatter in the kitchen. She was relieved that it was not her daughter’s gait. This was another teenager. A girl holding a gun. Dear God, where did these children get these weapons? What possessed them? . . .
Stella and Chris were arguing again—something about the television. They made me want to pick it up and just throw it out the window onto the street, Led Zeppelin–style . . .
I was halfway through a draft of a blistering sermon on Romans 1:18 when I was startled by a scratching at my office door. My staff and parishioners knew to leave me alone on Thursday afternoons. I looked up to see a vision in turquoise . . .
“Lousy son of a . . . a . . . bitch! . . . He d . . . d . . . deserved it anyway! . . .”