The Taco Robbers From Last Week
Dean didn’t think he’d ever again feel comfortable at Taco Bell, but he agreed to Tacos El Chimpa’s because No Están Buenos … ¡Pero quitan el hambre! had been spray-painted underneath the sign. Dean knew enough Spanish to know that meant bad tacos. If we’re going to eat tacos, he said, they should at least be terrible. The waiter placed glasses of jetsam-flaked water in front of the boys. The water rose out of the glasses to the yellow-stained ceiling Read more…
Left With The Moon
He is a playwright in New York and talks about his mother and likes to cook. I tell him over the phone I want to host Thanksgiving and ask if he can come. “Karen, you know I will cook the meal for you. The turkey the cranberry sauce the mashed potatoes and the cheesecake.” Read More…
Into the Morning Light
We snuck from our dorms into the two a.m. late April nights with the air still bitter from the winter left over. We wandered past the library’s modern art installation—big orange hollowed out geometric shapes—then past the fraternities and sororities. We found ourselves, almost by accident, in the cemetery underneath a broken angel. Read More…