he puts out his cigarette in the ashtray. it’s done with an elegance
All in Short story
Dear Sarah
“She’s in one of her moods again,” I say. I stare at the dark wood panels that cover the ceiling and blow out a puff of smoke. You let out a little cough.
Looking Back
I don’t know who looks at me when I gaze into the mirror. Try as I might, I don’t know who it is. I don’t even know who I’m supposed to see…
The Blanket
…and it is therefore not only myself that I saw when looking in the mirror. Who were all these other people?
spices and herbs
Ching, ching, ching, ching. The cash register jingles cheerfully as the cashier stumbles over himself to shut it. I’m jostled back into my own head by it, by him.