Monthly Archives: August 2015

POST-TRAUMATIC TRISTESSE

11/22/2012 I used to love hugs. As girls, we would plaster our flat chests together tightly, like magnets, after band competitions inhaling the scent of each other’s armpit sweat mixed with suntan lotion. Today, when Penelope pulls me in after … Continue reading

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WHAT I DON’T KNOW ABOUT THE MAN WORKING IN MY OFFICE, ON THE THIRD FLOOR

typing up thank you letters and removing commas, I sneak glances of him in the conference room at lunch, smoked ham and quinoa? — or out the window when he smokes, pensive expression facing the supermarket — and entertain thoughts … Continue reading

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