gyrmination

Brian’s eyes are in flight. They are pinched like cookie dough, his shoulders permanently arched toward his neck. My own eyes are pinched, they swat away the more capricious rays, funnel inward. I carry them in a haze, and drive.
But as the sonata progresses, the cats stir and slink around the piano. Mimi, Goma … […]

“Do you work here?” the lady asked.
“No I don’t,” I said.
“Oh. It just seemed like you belonged here.”
…
His face contorted into a plaintive raisin, the edge of two chasms, miscomprehension and incredulity. How could I be so assertive? Just how was I so sure I was right? It was too shocking.
…
I don’t know if my […]