Rolling My Eyes

She got herself a ride over to the next town and then she walked for the rest of the night. She walked a lot during the day too, and that next night she slept in an abandoned car, behind a gas station. The owner found her there in the morning, and gave her two cigarettes and a cup of coffee, before sending her on her way. He did not have the mind to care where she was from. But she did. So she walked some more. Until she found a pay phone and she called back home; collect. "Hi, Mom." "Nobody is looking for you, Miranda," her mother replied, listening to her daughter sigh in relief. "You haven't called the police?" Miranda walked all day. She found a dollar and then a little shop that sold coffee for that much. She sat at the counter. The man who sat beside her wore a red plaid shirt. He offered her one of his donuts. "You're too skinny," he said. And she laughed and took the offer. "Where you headin'?" And he replied, ...

Everyday, at Dave and Barbara's house, Tommy woke-up to the sound of the alarm clock going off at 6:15. It was way earlier in the morning than Momma had ever made him get-up. Tommy would wonder why the birds seemed so happy, when all he wanted to do was bury his head back under the covers. Which he often did. And then Tommy would get up to go pee and then play with the trains or pick his nose or do any other variety of little boy things--even sometimes doing his homework from the day before, just to prolong going down the stairs. Everyday, after Tommy had wasted as much time as he possibly could, he would put on the school clothes, left out the night before by Barbara. And everyday when Tommy came downstairs, Barbara would tell him to take a bath. In her high, clipped voice and while casting a disapproving stare down at him, she would say, "Go take a bath, Tommy." And Tommy hated baths. In general, Tommy just hated bathrooms. Everyday trudging out of the kitchen anyway...

The sun was just starting to set and the world took on a hazy orange that he could see in the corners of his eyes. He turned off the radio. The silent air that did not come in, through the open windows of his car, made him wonder if the day's heat would linger on through the night, despite all the weather reports calling for rain. The highway was an almost empty one. He was figuring he was tired of hocking toothpicks and napkins and cheap ketchup packets. He was tired of explaining the refinement of salt and the brittleness of the plastic cutlery sold by the other guys. The thing he did most in his life was drive the highways; the endless highways. But he wanted to walk. He wanted to run. He wished he were Wade Boggs. Or at least Don Mattingly . But instead, he'd been up and down those damn roads so many times, in the past twenty-three years that his mind seldom thought of the road always in front of him. He left that work up to his eyes. Just like he had back when he had ...

3:33 p.m. Minnie was 14. She liked wearing bright red lipstick and getting high. The stairwell was warm with brown carpet and cream walls. The stairwell was warm with the smell of piss. Three year old boys on their playground and grown men with even less sense of themselves. Minnie and Krystal sat on the second step of the first floor, so they had time to move if anyone needed up or down the stairs of the five-story apartment building. Minnie and Krystal were on LSD. "This sucks. I am high and this sucks," said Krystal, rubbing at her hair, head bent and sighing. "Amber is taking forever. Let's get outta here." "No," Minnie said. "Amber paid for the acid. I'm waiting for her." "Well, I am not,” Krystal wore her scowl, stood up , patting her legs, her purple jeans. "Maybe I'll go find Micky and Tommy." "Have fun," Minnie smiled up at her. bitch... Krystal smiled back at Minnie, too; and then she left....

MISTLETOE By Queenie I Saw You With Your Hands 1999 Tommy saw her. The snow danced in front of him, fat and plenty and heavy from the night sky; shimmering in the short glow of the streetlights. The headlights. Dim flashes of the seasons colours, blinking, muted in Tommy's background. The snow made the night awash with a cold brightness, blindly blocking views of the life around him. The Christmas shoppers and their loud packages. He could hear last minute swearing underneath breath. But he saw her. With him. And he was trying to grab her purse. Tommy was wearing his Reeboks. And so he stopped him. Above Your Head 2000 They were walking and almost to Tommy's car. “You did not seem to like the show,” Tommy bit the side of his mouth and looked at her. She looked up at him surprised, “No, I did.” “Are you sure?” he said. “I thought about it after I had the tickets. You work down here. You probably see all these shows whenever you want.” She laughed. He had no idea. “I ...

LOVE LOST FICTION by Queenie Chapter One Slow Hands They were standing behind the mall. Phill handed John the cigarette, shuffling his feet. "I think it is going to happen tonight," Phil said, head bent, muttering to the ground. "Yeah, buddy?" John asked, slowly. Phill looked up at the steel grey November sky, before he replied. "She just smells so great." John shoved him in the arm, a short chuckle. "Buddy, you are weird," he smiled. Chapter Two Every Hour, On The Hour Miranda sat in the bathroom, her head against the bathroom door, sometimes cool on her forehead. She could not take another day. She did not know what to do. Eighteen days and counting. She could feel it rising again, deep inside of her, feel the burn as it made it's way up. She reached the toilet just in time. And she was quiet while she vomited. She grabbed Phill before homeroom, pulling him outside the big green doors of the high school. They skipped school and sat in th...