After this pedicure, I’m really going to start saving and do my own nails.
Let’s go to spin class tomorrow morning before work!
Translation and rationalization of unsatisfactory text messages.
I remember staring at my naked body in the mirror while puffing out my belly and rubbing it sweetly. I remember praying to wake up and have an identical twin. I remember Michelle Tanner.
I told myself. You don’t have to be a bride, or on the road to bride, to like Stone Fox Bride, I hoped.
The first time I caught him swallowing a fistful of pills, he convinced me that they were vitamins.
Inevitably someone runs out of lives and the game’s over. You’re exhausted, defeated, your eyes are crusty, your ass is numb, your joints are stiff, your voice is hoarse, your thumbs have calluses, and despite the fact that there’s a “pause” button, you’ve been holding your bladder for three hours.
As I pushed into middle school, cheap jewelry and passed notes filled the drawers. Come high school, enough make-up splatter covered the surfaces to fill a Pollock canvas.
And today isn’t the eighth anniversary of your death, it’s just December 10 and it’s snowing so we’re going to play in it before it turns to city slush. And you’re going to carry me home when my socks get too wet and my toes turn to stones.
It was the something anniversary of Mike’s death. I’m not exactly sure which, because it always feels like 100 years and last week.