Unfinished Short Stories
By: Jasper Diamond Nathaniel
Tags: Fiction, Creativity, Fiction Writing, Short Story, Creative Writing

Mr. Millman was wheezing as he entered his apartment. He took off his hat and with his sore right hand he brushed what remained of his white hair. He looked around the room that he’d inhabited for fifty years. On the couch and coffee table that sandwiched Charlie lay a dozen photo albums, many of them open, and stacks of photographs that Mr. Millman had pulled from the albums in the last day. He picked up a photo. It was from his fiftieth wedding anniversary, he and his wife each held a champagne flute in the air. Hilda wore a blue dress and he a blue three-piece suit, they always matched at formal events. In the background were their friends Nate and Marianne. Nate wore his 34th Infantry hat, he wore it everywhere. Everyone smiled.

He dropped the photo and when he reached for it his body felt tired to its bones. He lowered his hands and knees to the old rug where he found himself face to face with Charlie. The cat’s eyes were open and its tongue hung out of its mouth, dry as sandpaper. A strange sound came from Mr. Millman’s throat, and then another, and suddenly he was crying out, gasping, weeping. He rolled onto his side, next to Charlie. The smell nearly made him vomit.

Outside, a cat stalked and killed a robin. Four chicks were dying in their nest.

Cousins

Luke was fifteen and lanky and insecure and often sad, and he looked up to his cousin Mason who was twenty-three and strong and handsome and charismatic. Mason was actually insecure and sad too, but unlike his younger cousin, he wore it as confidence. At their grandfather’s funeral Luke cried into Mason’s chest and their relatives commented on what a wonderful relationship the two had, what a role model Mason was, and so strong, too. Mason wasn’t crying. In fact he rarely cried, or he certainly hadn’t since Sara broke up with him at least. It’s like I don’t even know you, she’d said, and in the weeks that followed he hadn’t said much about it beyond It was mutual which was untrue and It was for the best which he certainly didn’t believe to be true. Holding on to his cousin, his relatives’ comments nourished him and he squeezed Luke even tighter. Back at their grandma’s house the cousins went down to the basement and they did pushups and pullups and situps together and they took pictures of themselves and posted them to Instagram.

Nine months later the two families met again for a wedding in Cape Cod. Mason spent most of his childhood at his mom’s home, but this wedding was on his father’s side and it was him who met Mason at the airport by leaning into the horn and saying I’ve had to make three loops. On the ride to the hotel he said So you’re single, huh? and Mason laughed and said Have been for like a year. After a pause, his father said, I know that Mason, and Mason said nothing, and then his father said Sara was great but there’ll be plenty of that at the wedding anyway. The rest of the ride was silent and Mason savored this.

In the hotel lobby the two cousins and their fathers bumped into one another. Luke’s dad was recently divorced, and it’s not that he expected to hear from his brother during this time, but perhaps he’d hoped for a warmer greeting than On a call which Mason’s dad mouthed while pointing to his headphones. Their sons embraced. Luke’s first thought on seeing Mason was I’ll never be as cool as Mason and Mason’s first thought on seeing Luke was Luke might never be cool. Mason took Luke by the shoulders and held him at arm’s length and said Damn dude you’ve been working out! Luke smiled and he flexed his arm muscles which lacked the hardness that he hoped puberty would bring. He had come to the wedding straight from summer camp where every boy in his bunk hooked up but him. At the final night’s bonfire one of the other boys asked Luke So which boy — I mean girl — do you think is the hottest in our year? and everyone laughed and it was obvious they’d talked about this before. Luke was smart and funny and kind but he was too young to realize that these were the things that mattered.

Mason hadn’t been to a wedding without Sara in years and leading up to this one he told anybody who’d listen that he couldn’t wait to go stag. He was stiff at the ceremony, and during the vows his grandma put a hand on his back and he shivered. He leaned in towards her to make a joke but said nothing when he realized he had no voice. At the cocktail hour he drank three gin and tonics and loosened his tie. He sat with Luke at dinner and the two watched the Clemson football game on his phone under the table. During the maid of honor’s speech Clemson scored a long touchdown and the two cousins cheered and everybody looked over, and they pretended to be coughing and then they leaned into each other and laughed so hard that tears streamed down their cheeks. Mason asked Luke who he had his eye on and Luke said he wasn’t really sure, and then Mason pointed at a girl in a yellow dress and said How about her? and Luke hardly looked over before he said Yeah she’s hot. Then Mason pointed at a tall brunette girl in a floral dress and said I like her. Mason took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves and dragged Luke onto the dance floor. They danced together, Luke following Mason’s every move, and within a minute Mason asked the girl in the floral dress if she wanted to dance. She said yes and that her name was Maggie, and then Luke was bobbing up and down by himself, slowly backing away and off the dance floor. Mason spotted Luke leaving and while he twirled Maggie with one hand he reached out with the other and ruffled Luke’s hair and said Love ya bud. Luke smiled and turned red. Mason stepped off the dance floor and said Where’s your girl? and Luke said I can’t find her! but actually he knew exactly where she was, and then Mason noticed his father heading towards Maggie and he said Jesus Christ and hurried back to the dance floor. And then Luke was alone again and he went out to the bathroom for the fourth time even though he didn’t have to go. He never took off his jacket or even so much as unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, it didn’t occur to him that this was okay to do.

When the reception ended the twenty-somethings walked down to the beach. Luke said his goodbyes and Mason said Oh hell no you’re coming with us and Luke asked his dad who started to say no but was interrupted by his brother who said Yeah Luke you can go. Luke’s dad knew better than to take his brother’s bait. He looked back at his son and said Stick by your cousin. At the beach somebody built a bonfire and beers and champagne and bottles of liquor were passed around. Mason flirted with Maggie while Luke hovered around him saying nothing, only smiling when Mason reached back to ruffle his hair or squeeze his shoulder. Mason stumbled and Maggie laughed and said You’re pretty drunk aren’t you? and Mason shrugged and then Maggie said I should probably head back to my room. Mason said Already? and he felt a tightness in his chest but then he turned and saw that there were still plenty of people around. He took Luke by the shoulder and walked him up to the girl in the yellow dress and said This is my cousin Luke, you two should meet. The girl laughed and she gave Luke a funny look and Mason gave him a little shove and said Introduce yourself bud. Luke did what his cousin said and then he froze up and Mason got bored and walked away. Luke followed close behind and told Mason I wasn’t really into it which was disingenuous but not entirely untrue.

It was past midnight on the beach and Mason took a long sip from a bottle of tequila and announced that he was going to strip down and go for a swim. Luke, you’re coming with me he said. Luke pretended that he didn’t hear but then Mason looked right at him and said C’mon bud. Luke looked at the black ocean and a fast shooting pain traveled down his spine, through his legs and into his toes. His whole body quivered and he nearly let out a yelp. He wasn’t a great swimmer and there was no lifeguard on duty and didn’t sharks feed at night and what would his dad think when he came back to the hotel room with his brand new suit all wet? It was his first suit, they’d just gone out to buy it last weekend during his first stay at his dad’s new apartment. Dude it’s probably so cold Luke said and Mason looked at him and said Luke, everyone’s watching now, you wanna be part of this story or not? Luke laughed and after a pause he shook his head no. Mason looked at his cousin and he said Whatever, and it was a tone that Luke had never heard from him before, and Mason had that tired and hostile look in his eyes that comes after six hours of drinking. Luke turned and saw the group at the bonfire watching and then he closed his eyes and said Okay I’ll do it, and they stripped down to their underwear together which was exhilarating for Luke and he looked at his cousin’s body and he wondered if he’d look like that one day. Mason slapped Luke on his bare back and Luke recoiled and then he laughed and said Let’s do this. They ran towards the ocean and as they did Luke heard the crashing waves and he saw the white foam exploding on the shore. His legs became weak and they felt heavy like he was in a dream, and a few feet from the water he stepped on a shell and he cried out What was that? Mason ignored him and then Luke said I can’t and he stopped in his tracks. Mason again said nothing and then he left his cousin behind, and Luke bent over and put his hands on his knees and thought that he was going to vomit.

Mason was out of the water moments later and he walked back to the bonfire in his underwear, soaking wet and glistening in the moonlight. Luke said Sorry as his cousin passed and Mason said nothing. He watched Mason and he noticed the way his muscles changed as he moved through the crowd and mimed diving under waves, and a feeling of paralyzing shame washed over him. Mason finished his round and put his clothes back on, and the crowd’s attention turned to a friend of the groom’s who was telling stories from their high school days. Some time later, to Luke it could have been ten minutes or an hour, Mason tapped Luke on the shoulder and said Let’s go, and they walked back to the hotel with a small group. Once inside there was no goodbye from Mason who was dragging his jacket across the floor and scrolling through Sara’s Instagram on his phone.

When Luke walked into his hotel room his dad was still in his suit and his shoes and he was sleeping on top of the covers. He woke with a start and said Have you heard from Mom? and then he came to his senses and he sat up and said Your mom, I mean. Nevermind. Luke shook his head no and his dad said Did you have fun at the beach? and Luke said Yeah Dad I had a great time. He went into the bathroom and turned on the shower and stared at himself in the mirror. He opened his mouth to scream and then he jerked his head forward towards the mirror and stopped with his face an inch short of it, and then he buried his face into a towel and cried.

Mason was outside of his door fumbling with his keycard when he heard a familiar voice behind him. Hey, Mason right? It was the groom’s high school friend who’d been telling stories at the bonfire. Is your cousin okay? Mason looked at him with suspicion. He’s fine, why? As he said this he slid the keycard into the slot and turned the door handle, but then paused to wait for a response. Did you see his face on the walk back from the beach? Mason again said He’s fine, and he pushed the door open and walked into his room where the television was on and his father was snoring.

Mason went into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror and he was startled to see his father’s look flicker through his eyes. His skin was pale and his eyes were red and sunken. He had a thick, sour taste in his mouth. He tried to remember the last thing Luke had said to him. It was Sorry, and Mason had said nothing in return. He flipped off the lights so he could only see his silhouette and for a moment he felt better. Goddamnit he said and then he turned the lights back on and he splashed cold water on his face. He picked up his phone and texted Luke. Hey that was a stupid idea of me to go for a swim, I’m glad you didn’t join. See you at brunch tomorrow? We’re gonna feast. Love ya bud.

But Luke didn’t have his phone because he’d left it in his room along with his wallet and the sand dollar he’d found earlier. The text woke up his dad who saw his phone but not Luke and got out of bed with his suit still on. Luke passed by the bonfire where a small group of the bride and groom’s friends sat around smoking cigarettes and weed and drinking the last of the alcohol. He announced to the group I’m going in the ocean and he stripped off his clothes while they all watched and not a single one of them tried to stop him. He got down to his underwear and he folded up his suit and placed it on the ground. His skinny body shook in the cold. What Mason hadn’t mentioned was that he’d cut his swim short because the waves were bigger than they’d looked and there was a rip current. He had actually lost his footing and crawled back to the beach wild-eyed and coughing up seawater. But Mason had played it cool as he was adept at doing and he acted like swimming in the ocean at midnight was the type of thing he did all the time. Luke got down to the water and again there was terror but this time he was floating above his body because the shame had become too much for him to bear. He waded into waist-deep water and he looked back and the group was gone and the bonfire was out and now he was alone and suddenly he was no longer out of his body but very much in it and experiencing everything that was happening, the back of his head hitting the sand, the cold water and salt rushing into his eyes and then his nose and mouth, his panicked father calling his name from the shore, an invisible force pulling him away from everything he wanted. Mason was drifting off to sleep, his world turning black too, hearing calls of Luke, Luke in his dreams.

Boys Will Be Boys (an attempt at absurdism after reading nothing but George Saunders for 3 months)

Chapter 1: Going to the video store

I am going into the sectioned-off room off the video store today. I’ve only ever seen men go in there, and only a certain type of man. The kind that’s always in the store by himself, beady eyes, looking around to make sure no one is watching. The kind that smokes — I know these men smoke even though I’ve never seen them smoke. The kind of man that makes my mom grip me tighter when he walks by. I will go in there today.

I’m browsing the kids movies so as to not arouse suspicion. Billy is guarding the outside of the store. If a parent approaches, he will “sprain his ankle” and shriek, warning me and creating a distraction.

I push past the beaded curtain. I step in. I see… naked women. Everywhere. My first tits.

I hesitate, and then I reach for a VHS called Busty Public School Teachers IV. I make contact and an alarm sounds. The curtain falls, the tapes slide into an underground hatch, and a glass dome drops down around me. I am exposed to the store, like a fish in a fishbowl. The alarm has attracted the attention of passersby and they see me, a 12-year old boy trapped in a glass dome, busted for trying to see the busty teachers. I scream. “ I didn’t know! Help! Let me out of here!”

My parents walk in. They are disappointed, and they won’t make eye contact with me. I call out. “Mom! Dad!” If they can hear me, they pretend they cannot. They exchange a few words with the clerk, and walk out.

Three hours pass. The crowd has dissipated, but I am still in the glass dome. The clerk slides my lunch in through a slot. Baloney sandwich and a small cup of water. No sides, no soda, no dessert.

Two years pass. I spend my days pacing around Glass Dome. I’ve grown stronger from puberty and doing wall sits. I still speak English but I also growl.

Five years pass. I am animal now. I have gnawed off left foot. I no like busty teachers no more.

Ten years pass. Big Bank Man come in and talk to Clerk. Clerk down on knees begging, crying. Big Bank Man walk out shaking head. Clerk put sign on door — Store Closed, For Good.

Clerk throw cash register through Glass Dome. “Run away! You’re free!” he say. I no want to leave. I like Dome. “Don’t make this even harder!” Clerk kick me. I crawl out of store, dragging my stump. Clerk crying louder, “I’m sorry,” he say. I cry now too. Light blinds my eyes.

Six more months pass. Do I miss Clerk? Sure, sometimes. But I am very lucky. My family has taken me back, my community has taken me in. My leg was reattached, and I have been fully reintegrated into society. I have my own apartment and I have a job and I have My Boys. I am a Normal Twenty Two Year Old Boy, now.

Chapter 2: Going to the gym

One morning I wake up with my friend Chad pounding on my door.

“Bro. Bro. Bro. Bro. Bro. Bro. Bro. Wake up.”

I rise from bed and answer the door

“We’re going to the gym,” he says.

“Okay,” I say. I get dressed and we go to the gym.

Chad puts two 45-pound plates on either side of a 45-pound bar, for a total of 225 pounds. “Let’s bench,” he says.

“Let’s bench,” I say in return.

“Warm up set,” he says.”

“Yes, warm up,” I say.

Chad lies down on the bench and completes twenty five repetitions. It’s my turn next. I’ve never lifted weights before but I haven’t told this to Chad. Chad helps me lift the bar off the rack. He removes his hands and 225 pounds of steel drops onto my chest. The breath leaves my body and I feel my heart skip a beat. Chad has wandered off and is attempting to speak to a woman sprinting on a treadmill. I shift my weight and the two 45-pound plates on the left side of the bar fall to the ground with a loud crash. The sudden imbalance causes the right side of the bar to drop and the left side to swing upwards. I will not let go. The right end of the bar hits the ground and the bar finally comes to rest standing straight up like a flagpole. My body rolls off the bench with the bar. I am now parallel to the ground and balancing three feet above it, my body a perfect straight line. I am committed to this new position, a human flag.

Chad has wandered back and he is alarmed. “Dude, are you okay?”

“Yes,” I say. “Doing a human flag.”

“Let go,” he says.

“One more minute,” I say. Inside I cry out in pain. A raging wildfire spreads through my body.

“Dude, let go. It’s my turn.”

“Chad,” I say. I pause and catch my breath. “Please let me finish.” Thirty more seconds, I tell myself. Thirty, twenty nine, twenty eight.

“Bro,” he says, increasingly agitated.

A crowd has gathered around, admiring the human flag. “Check out this human flag. This guy’s a beast,” a hulking man in a singlet says. I’m doing it, I think, they like me.

Chad nudges in front of the hulking man. “I’m next,” he says.

I close my eyes. Nineteen, eighteen, seventeen.

“He’s awake!” I hear. I am in a hospital bed. Three days have passed. I have pain, but I must get back to My Boys. I pull the wires off of my chest and leave.

Chapter 3: Night out with the boys

Tonight is boys’ night out. There’s nine of us boys, we’ll be looking for chicks tonight. We each wear a button down shirt and jeans. We start with a pregame at Billy’s place. He has teed up a playlist. Lil Jon’s voice carries through the apartment. “Shots, shots, shots shots shots.”

The boys join in. “Shots, shots, shots shots shots.” We gather in a huddle in the middle of the living room, eyes closed, chanting. “Shots, shots, shots shots shots.” Billy exits the huddle and returns with a bottle of Captain Morgan’s Rum from the kitchen. The song has ended and the boys have sat back down in silence . Billy replays the song and pours a shot for each guest. We repeat this sequence six more times. Jackson sucks on his Juul with such force that his exhale sends a cucumber breeze through the room. We head out for Brother Tommy’s Bar and Grill.

We congregate around a group of three women. In perfect unison, we say: “Would you ladies like something to drink?” Our group of nine heads to the bar and returns with forty five total drinks.

“What am I supposed to do with nine drinks?” one of the ladies says. Charlie drops his drinks, lets out a high-pitched shriek, and runs out of the bar.

“More chicks for the rest of us,” says Jacobs. We all high five. The ladies have left the bar.

Mike has peeled off from the group and is talking with a woman in the far corner. Chad says “Time to go razz Mike,” and he walks up to Mike and razzes him with three swift punches to the gut. Chad is a trained MMA fighter and Mike is now writhing in pain on the ground. Chad removes his shirt and the lady leaves. I high five Chad. He turns to me and says “You ready to be razzed?” Before I am able to respond Chad has wrapped two arms and two legs around my body in such a way that the blood has ceased traveling to my brain. As my vision fades and turns black, I hear faint calls of “Tap out!” which I do before being forced to take a shot of Captain Morgan’s off of Chad’s abdomen.

Three of the boys are urinating into a pitcher. Smitty has jumped the bar and hijacked the iPad controlling the music. “Shots, shots, shots shots shots.”

The boys are gathering again when the music stops. The manager has pulled the plug on the speakers.

“What do you boys want?”

“Chicks!” we say.

“The chicks are all gone. You’ve scared them off.”

“The amulet,” we say.

“The what?”

“The amulet,” we say, louder this time.

“I don’t want any trouble. Why don’t you boys go find somewhere else to hang out?”

Jared locks the door. “You’ve known this day was coming,” he says to the manager. “The amulet, now.”

I turn to Billy. “What is the amulet?”

“The amulet,” he says, “an ornament thought to give protection against evil, danger, or disease.”

“Oh,” I say. “Amulet is chicks?”

“Yes,” Billy says.

Jared has moved in on the manager. “Okay, okay,” the manager says. “Let me text my friend, he knows a ton of chicks.”

One hour later several chicks enter the bar. The boys gather round.

Chapter 4: Talking about work

I’m getting brunch with the boys and we’re talking about work. Jared surveys the room. “Which of you boys Rose and Ground this morning?”

“What?” I say.

“Did you Rise and Grind today?”

“I do not understand the question,” I say.

“I Rose and Ground,” says Devin. Jared reaches across the table and high fives Jared.

“Stack that paper,” says Jared.

“Stack that paper is right,” says Devin.

“That’s right,” I say. “Paper stack, paper stack, hoo haa hoo,” I chant.

“My bonus check came in yesterday,” says Jared. “I made $750,000 this year.”

The boys are silent.

Austin speaks up. “I made $28,000.”

Jared laughs. We all laugh.

“You ol’ ninnyhammer,” I say. The boys solemnly shake their heads at me.

Jared stands. “You’re not working hard enough,” he says.

“I work in a plant. I work very hard.”

Jared laughs. “Did you even Rise and Grind today?”

“I came straight to brunch from the plant.”

Jared brings a large fist down on the table and then points at Austin. “My firm could buy your plant and lay you off in a second,” he says. “It would be nothing.”

“Okay,” says Austin. “Please don’t do that.”

“What University did your mother and father go to?” Jared says.

“My mother didn’t go to University. She’s a nanny. She was your nanny. She still is.”

Jared laughs. “Lazy ass.”

“And my father went to community college. Now he’s dead,” says Austin.

“Lazy ass,” says Jared.

The check has arrived, we all take out our cards. Jared frisbees his card across the table in the direction of the check. His card is built from tungsten steel. The throw is an errant one and the card hits Austin in the right eye.

“My eye!” he screams.

We all laugh. Austin loses his eye and is bankrupted by medical bills. He is no longer one of The Boys.

Chapter 5: Going on a Tinder Date

Tonight I’m going on a date with a woman I met on Tinder. I arrive at Casa Royale fifty two minutes early. I text her. Here a bit early. Got a table in the back. Tall guy in the grey shirt. She responds. Fifty two minutes early? WTF? Also how tall are you? The server comes, I order a jalapeño margarita. The server tells me the drink is spicy, I ignore her. I respond to my date, I’m five ten. Oh, she says. The waiter arrives with my drink. I take a sip.

I cannot feel my tongue. I begin sweating profusely. Soon I am hallucinating. I can’t see anything but I hear loud cheering and I smell birdfeed.

“Hello? Hello?” A pretty girl is seated across from me, snapping in my face. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I say. “You must be Jane.” We hug.

“Ew,” she says, “you’ve sweat through your shirt.”

She’s wearing a black tanktop and white pants. Her hair is reddish brown and it falls below her shoulders. Her eyes are green. “You are lovely,” I say.

“Thanks. You sure you’re okay?”

I take another sip from my drink. I hear cheering again. Fuck, totally forgot. This time I can see. The air is smoky. Throngs of crazy-eyed people wave dollar bills. I’m at a cockfight. No, I’m in a cockfight. I am a rooster and my name is Francisco. I see my opponent, John-Paul. I know what I need to do. I run at John-Paul and when I’m close I spring off of my hocks, lifting off the ground and raising my talons towards his throat.

“What the fuck is wrong with you dude?” Jane says.

“What?”

“You just lunged at me.”

“No I didn’t.”

“You’re on the ground and you’ve scrunched up your hands like claws.”

“Oh yeah. No that was something else,” I say. I wave the server down. “Can I please have a plain margarita?” I climb into my seat and look into Jane’s green eyes. “So what do you do?” I say.

“I’m going to leave,” she says.

On my way out I exchange a look with a man in a plaid blazer. I know those eyes. It’s John-Paul. He makes a run for it. I chase after him but I run straight into a wall.

Chapter 6: Ballgame with Dad

Dad and I are heading to the ballgame today. We’ve got great seats: first row, upper deck, behind home plate. We buy beers and dogs. Dad’s wearing a beat up Yankees cap, there’s a scorecard in his breast pocket . His eyesight is bad so I provide the play-by-play while he keeps score.

“Let’s hope Sabathia brings it today,” he says.

“Brings what?” I say.

“The heat,” he says.

“Ah yes, the heat. The high cheese. The cheddar. The camembert. The neufchatel,” I say. Dad pats me on the head.

The game begins, and the first pitch is fouled back towards us. I lunge for the ball and tumble off of the upper deck, landing ten feet below on the protective netting. I am now lying face down on the netting, like Spiderman, fifty feet above the field. I was mistaken, the ball was dribbled to the second basemen for an easy out. I clap. “One up, one down,” I say.

I have a good view of the field from up here but the game has stopped. “Let’s go blue, get this game movin’,” I shout at the umpires. “We don’t got all day here, kid,” I say.

The outfielders have congregated in centerfield and are pointing at me. A woman screams in the distance. A message appears on the jumbotron. “WAVE YOUR ARMS IF YOUR OKAY.” Who are they talking to? I wonder. Another message appears. “SON ARE YOU OKAY? ITS ME DAD.” Now I’m confused. I look back towards Dad and see him talking to two men wearing suits and headsets. He appears worried.

I wave my arms. “What’s the holdup now boys? Batter up!” I say. “We don’t got all day here, kid,” I say again.

A fire truck has made its way onto the field and a cherry picker rises in my direction. A beefy man with a mustache calls out to me. “Don’t move,” he says. He passes a harness through a hole in the netting and instructs me to fasten it around my waist. It’s difficult from my position but I manage. He then hands me a carabiner and asks me to attach it to my harness. Once I’ve done that, the man cuts a hole in the netting. I tumble through the hole and fall into his muscular arms. He cradles me like a baby. I nuzzle the man’s bosom. The crowd goes wild as the cherry picker is lowered to the ground. They’re cheering for me.

“Thank you,” I say to the crowd. “Thank you,” I say again, louder this time.

“Shut the hell up,” says the beefy man with the mustache.

We reach the ground where I am immediately met by stadium security. The players high five me as I am led off of the field. Dad is waiting for me by the exit.

“Pops,” I say. He looks up at me, there are tears streaming down his face. “4–3 ground out.”

Chapter 7: Road trip

My friends and I have embarked on a road trip!

“What’s that sound?” Mike says.

“Shit. Sounds like we’ve got a flat,” says Trevor.

I listen but hear nothing. “Yes, that’s a flat alright,” I say.

Mike pulls over to the side of the road. I get out of the car and see that the front left tire has no air. “Woah Nelly, this tire has no air!”

Mike looks at Trevor. “I’ve got this,” he says.

“No,” says Trevor, “I’ve got this.”

I raise both of my arms into the air. “No,” I say, “I must insist! I’ve got this!”

Mike and Trevor look relieved. Mike opens up his trunk and pulls out a box of tools and a spare tire. “This tire is tiny,” I say. “It’s far too small.”

“It’s a spare,” he says.

I don’t understand. I open the box of tools. Suddenly I am overwhelmed and I become lightheaded. “Why don’t you two go grab a bite to eat? I’ll call you when it’s done.”

“We’re in the middle of the highway. There’s no exit for miles,” Trevor says.

I pick up a tool. It’s covered in grease. “Ew, this tool is slimy,” I say, and I drop the tool.

“You sure you know what you’re doing?” says Mike.

I take two steps towards him and raise my fist. “Ask me that again, Mike. I dare you.”

“Let’s go for a walk,” Mike says to Trevor.

I head back to the trunk and pick up a tire iron. I know this from the movies. Might need this later, I think. I also find a coloring book and a set of Magic Markers. I open to a random page and find the outline of a unicorn.

I decide to color the unicorn’s body purple with blue shading around its joints to indicate movement. I make its horn yellow, its mane rainbow. As I’m filling in the mane I begin to feel regret. This unicorn should be white, I think. White would bring out the colors of the mane, I think. Negative space, I think. I flip through the book but there are no more unicorns. I’m becoming upset when I hear a voice.

“What the fuck? Is that my sister’s coloring book?” It’s Mike, he’s returned with Trevor.

“What? No,” I say. “I was looking for more tools.”

“You’ve got marker all over your hands. You’ve been coloring.”

“What’s that over there?” I say. As Mike looks away, I drive the tire iron into his kneecap.

Chapter 8: Going to work

“Ugh, drats, dang it all to hell, it’s Monday. Time for work,” I say to myself. I get dressed and head out for work.

I am stepping inside of my office building when I hear something in the distance. I silence the crowd of people in the building lobby. “Quiet,” I say. I use my hands to block the sun and I look out towards the horizon where I see a familiar silhouette. I reach for my binoculars to get a better look, and I see the shape of a woman.

Based on her pace and approximate distance from the building, she is forty five seconds away. I check my watch — fortunately I arrive early every morning for just this reason, and I’ve brought a bag of trail mix. I will hold the door.

Fifteen seconds pass. She stops, squints, and looks in my direction. She is now waving her arms above her head, trying to send a signal of sorts, most likely a ‘thank you.’ She starts walking again, having picked up her pace. She is now shouting something towards me. I cannot make out her words but most likely another ‘thank you.’ She stops again. She puts her hands on her thighs and appears to be panting. She reaches into her purse. The lobby telephone rings and my attention is diverted. The security guard walks in my direction, phone in hand. “It’s for you,” he says.

I put the phone to my ear. “Let it go,” says a voice on the other end.

“Pardon?”

“You are inconveniencing both of us. Let it go.”

I hand the phone back to the guard. “Wrong number,” I say. I smile and I look around and I say, “Awkward!”

At one hundred feet away the woman has broken into a light jog. She pauses for a breather at fifty feet, and then resumes her journey in a power walk. I see that it’s Nancy from Accounting. From four feet away Nancy desperately reaches out for the door. “I’ve got it,” I say. I pull the door just out of her reach and her momentum takes her forward so she stumbles and falls to the ground.

I reach down to help her up. “Don’t touch me,” Nancy says. She is sweating profusely, mascara dripping down her face. Her tights have ripped at the knee and she appears to be bleeding. I keep my hand out.

And then I hear something. I look out in the distance and see another woman approaching the building entrance. I look down at Nancy, and then back towards the door. The new entrant is only feet away now, I must act fast. I reach down and grab Nancy’s shawl and drag her towards the door when the security guard performs a perfect form tackle on me. He pushes my face into the ground with all of his might, but I am still facing the door, and I can see that Lola from Sales is only feet away. I reach out for the door, and Nancy, now on her feet, stomps on my hand, crushing three fingers. I reach out with my other hand. I am tasered and everything goes black.

I wake up. “Is Lola okay?” I say.

Chapter 9: Rekindling with my ex

My ex-girlfriend has walked into the bar. “Well, well, well, look who it is!” I say. I smash my bottle of Bud Light over the head of her male companion.

“Oh my god,” Jane screams. “What did you do?”

“Well Jane,” I say. “I’ve done quite a lot since our relationship. Just — .”

She interrupts me. “You’re that guy from Casa Royale. Oh Jesus.”

I continue. “Just got promoted. Bought six new pairs of jeans. Quit Juuling. Psoriasis has cleared.”

“What’s that on your elbow?”

“Poison ivy.”

Jane has a look of shock on her face. She is shocked to hear how well I’m doing. “I’d better take Martin to the hospital now,” she says.

“Wait.” I say. She looks back at me expectantly. We make eye contact and for a moment things are how they used to be.

“Martin owes me a Bud Light.”

“You broke it over his head.”

“It was two thirds full.”

The bartender chimes in. “Rules are rules.”

Martin is lying on the ground in a pool of blood. I kneel down next to him. “I’ll take that Bud Light anytime you’re ready.” He moans and makes a gurgling sound. “Nerd,” I say. I stand back up. “Looks like this one’s on you, Jane!”

Jane looks around. Her shock has turned to fear. Fear of feelings for me returning. “Okay,” she says. She buys two Bud Lights and sits down at the stool next to mine. We spend the next hour catching up. I tell her about my new job, that I’ve started writing poetry, that I do Capoeira now. I show her my new tattoo and explain its meaning to her: Eat, Pray, Love, Death, Art, Book. Her hand brushes against mine and I feel a warmth that I haven’t felt in years.

After an hour, she stands up. “Alright, I’d better take Martin to the hospital, for real, this time. He hasn’t made a sound in ages.”

“Jane, this was really nice. I’m glad I ran into you,” I say. I hug her. She is emotional and fails to reciprocate the hug. Martin is helped to his feet by Jane and another bar patron, and they make their way into a taxi.

I hurry outside and call out to Jane. “Wait.” She looks back at me. “Unblock me on Instagram.”

Chapter 10: Camping with my friend

I’ve gone on a camping trip with my friend, Jesse. On the first night, he strikes me in the face with a cactus. As I brace for impact, I close my eyes and see a starry night. Everything is peaceful. I hear a light, ambient chanting in my head. I think about my mother. I think about the universe and nature and how grateful I am. And then the cactus makes contact and all of those feelings go away. The cactus is rather soft, so the impact itself feels a bit like being hit with a wet roll of paper towels, but the spines hurt. The cactus splits in half and a cool, gooey nectar drips down my face. I taste it on my lips and it is sweet.

All in all I’m okay, but I am angry at him for doing this — he had no idea it wouldn’t be so bad. “You hit me with a cactus!” I say.

“You shouldn’t have done what you did!” he says.

“What did I do?”

“You slayed my ex!”

“I did what?”

“I said you slayed my ex.”

“Huh?”

“You slayed her. You shouldn’t have!”

“I did not.”

He hesitates. “Well, somebody did!”

I am very confused. “You hit me with a cactus,” I remind him.

He sees blood dripping from several dozen pin-sized holes in my cheek, and he appears to feel guilt. “So I did,” he says. He puts his hand on my shoulder. “I am sorry.”

We light a fire. We sit in silence for fifteen, maybe thirty minutes. Jesse is deep in thought, and then he speaks.

“I understand that you are upset with me,” he says, “on account of what I did with the cactus.”

“Yes,” I say, “that is accurate.”

“But can I really be blamed for my violent conduct?”

“Yes,” I say.

“Or are there extraneous sources responsible for my behavior?” he says.

“No,” I say. He seems to not be listening.

“We came of age in a patriarchal society,” he says, “surrounded by toxic masculinity. Of course we’d turn out like this.”

“What?” I say.

“Was it even me that swung the cactus?”

“Yes.”

“Or were there invisible forces driving my hand?”

“No. It was you.”

“We are steeped in a culture that glorifies violence and sexual conquest,” he says. “Come to think of it, I suppose I can’t be upset with whoever slayed my ex. You see, with regard to free will — -.”

“What does slay your ex mean?” He stands up and begins pacing back and forth.

“With regard to free will, or the lack thereof, we call this ‘determinism,’ a philosophy contending — .”

“Okay, I think I’m bored of this conversation.”

He continues, “A philosophy contending that human behavior is caused by biological and psychological factors and/or the structural factors that comprise one’s environment, as opposed to free will.”

“Dude, bro,” I say. “Jesse,” I say. “Are you mansplaining determinism to me?”

“If we refer back to Stephen Schafer’s seminal collection of essays, Problem of Free Will in Criminology, perhaps the cactus — .”

I’ve had enough of this, I think to myself. I note that we’re in a desert, and that nobody else knows we’re out here. I will kill Jesse, I decide. I discreetly remove my right sock and fill it with coins, and then I pause. Am I being irrational? I think to myself. No, I think. Am I even in control here? I take five deep breaths, Jesse is still talking. Yes, I am in control, I think. I am acting on my own volition. I spin the sock over my head like a lasso and then swing it directly into the side of Jesse’s head. The blow kills him instantly, leaving a mess of coins and brains all over the sand.

Chapter 11: The end

I am in the desert by myself. I do not know how to read a map nor how to use a compass, so I pick a direction at random and begin walking. I walk for one full day and then I run out of water and I collapse from exhaustion and dehydration.

When I wake up a pair of kit foxes are licking my face. They have brought me a dead kangaroo rat and two moist tomatoes to eat. “Thank you,” I say. The tomatoes cool my throat.

Three hours pass. The two foxes are still here, watching me.

Two years pass. Today I caught my first jackrabbit. I shared my kill with Felix Fox, Finnegan Fox, Franklin Fox and Fabian Fox. Finnegan Fox licked the blood from my lips after we finished.

Five years pass. I talk Fox now. I often scream a sound like Ralphhhh Ralph Ralphhh in a high pitch. I also call out Rerrrrruurrr with a soft raspiness in my throat to attract Female Foxes.

Ten years pass. Ralphhhh. I have been caught by Park Ranger. He shot my beautiful wife Fabrizia Fox and he put me in pickup truck and drive me to Human Town. Ralphhhh.

Six more months pass. Of course I miss Fabrizia Fox, but I am very lucky. My family has taken me back, my community has taken me in. I have been given a good wash and shave and been fully reintegrated into society. I have my own apartment and I have a job and I have My Boys again. I am a Normal Thirty Two Year Old Boy, now.

Disappeared (trigger warning: ICE raids)

March 6th, 2021, 8:05 a.m. @realdonaldtrump: TO ICE AGENT JARED BOWEN. WE HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN ABOUT YOU. I HAVE SENT OUR MOST ELITE UNITES TO NEW YORK CITY AND AUTHORIZED THEM TO KEEP SEARCHING UNTIL YOU ARE FOUND AND RESCUED. THE SAVAGES WHO DID THIS WILL PAY FOR IT GRAVELY.