My hollow stomach wallops as though I’ve swallowed a bleating goat. It kicks and butts and bahs, rips my villi like mouthfuls of grass. I am its pasture, and this –
This is how I know I like him better than other men.
My hollow stomach wallops as though I’ve swallowed a bleating goat. It kicks and butts and bahs, rips my villi like mouthfuls of grass. I am its pasture, and this –
This is how I know I like him better than other men.
I’d fallen into a rhythmic stride en route to the dormitories, where my path led between a ridge of lamplit trees and pond reeds dusted with snow tops. That powder sifted over my route between the parking lot and campus proper would melt before morning, but it was here now, and so was I. Everyone else would be asleep at this hour, tucked away from frosted windows and clanging radiators. But here, falling into the silent rhythm of heel-toe, I left a single set of footprints behind me. Continue reading