Breakup

I’m guilty. He stares me down for an answer, but I use silence as a weapon, sending daggers in his direction. He presses further for the truth, for me to look him in the eye. I finally meet his challenge, and that is the end for the both of us.

Office Romance

I love it when she wears that oversized white shirt to the office. It makes me picture the shirt that’s on my back, on hers. She knows it. Her fingers are rolling up the sleeves while mine are adjusting my tie, wishing they were hers, my boss’s, taking it off.

Good Intentions

I really wanted to do right by her, I did. It’s not my fault that the man upstairs forgot that one important thing. I was minding my own business when she came and grabbed me with her trembling, hopeful fingers, believing that her cure could be found in a pill.

Cookies

A memory from when I was in New York: I was walking down the street, eating cookies. A clean-cut man approached me, saying they look good. I offered him one, thoughtlessly taking it out of the bag with my hand. He smiled, ate it, said Thanks and then walked away.