· by Rue, 44
Norris is thirty-nine. Different man, upstairs, which I do not offer as a habit. I wanted a bed and a sheet I could ruin and strip. I met him in…
Read full post · by Quilla, 23
The lot behind the old market locks at midnight and the guard knows my car and does not care what adults do if the gate is the one I have…
Read full post · by Sorrel, 36
Colm is forty-four. A different man, a different month. He came to the gate and I told him the stop word was still gate, and that we were going to…
Read full post · by Lovage, 36
Whit is forty, and he came alone, which I had asked for after a month of pairs. I wanted one man, a tile floor, and enough time to soak it…
Read full post · by Quilla, 23
The On Air light was dead. I had signed off, racked the last record, and killed the board. I am twenty-three. I do not do this while I am working,…
Read full post · by Sorrel, 36
Harv met me at the gate. He is thirty-nine, from town, not a man I keep. The stop word is gate. If I say it, the chase and the fuck…
Read full post 
