Category Archives: Fiction

A Passage From a Novel Without Any Context: Vol. 4

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“I’m not a suspect, am I?”

Diana was puzzled. She wasn’t a thief. She hadn’t stolen anything since high school, when she would take quarters from the little charity display next to the register at Baskin-Robbins, salty when customers would neglect to acknowledge the effort it took to make their milkshake but instead award 25 cents to picture of the allegedly afflicted girl who had been there for years. Her name was Alison, come to think of it; she had leukemia.

But there he was. This policeman at her door. Asking her about her roommate from 3 years ago.

“If you were, I probably wouldn’t tell you. But no, you’re not a suspect. We’re just trying to gather as much information about Miss Havisham as we can. You never know what clues and leads present themselves when people start talking about common acquaintances and other kinds of everyday context. Continue reading

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A Passage From a Novel Without Any Context: 3.14.15 Edition

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“Thank you so much. Again, I’m so sorry.”

The cashier squinted her eyes like she was smiling but her mouth never actually moved. She hated me.

They all did.

“C’mon, Toby! Come with mommy!”

His little fingers grasped my largest two and we made toward the automatic door.

“Mother of the year, right there.”

What. “Mother of the year right there”?

You have got to be. fcking. kidding me.

I turned and glared at that little bitch.

“You’ve got some nerve. You know that?”

“Excuse me, what?” Continue reading

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A Passage From A Novel Without Any Context: Valentine’s Week Edition

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“… I know, right? Let me guess, your favorite Alt-J song is ‘Left Hand Free’, too, isn’t it?”

Sarah laughed as she passed Dental Hygeine/Toothbrushes. Kelly was such a prick and she loved it.

“Let’s go see if there’s any cheap Valentine’s Day candy left.”

“Oooo good idea.”

The two girls strolled beyond Greeting Cards and took a right at Seasonal. They found shelves mostly bare, with a section of consolidated red-and-pink toward the front of the store. It was marked with blue sheets of paper displaying 50% OFF VALENTINE’S ITEMS in toner consistent with that of the 5-cents-a-copy machine close to Photo. Three plastic-wrapped bulk packages of Easter baskets waited patiently next to it.

Blue was a curious choice, Sarah thought as she approached the sale.

The girls scanned the picked-over racks. A man coming from Batteries noticed the sale and smiled. He walked toward the girls, stopping his cart alongside them. His two, non-descript black velcro shoes stood in direct contrast of the four Chuck Taylors they were adjacent to.

“Looks like we had the same idea! Save on the good stuff!” The man smiled at them.

“Yup. The good stuff,” Kelly deadpanned. “Gotta save on it.”

With a slight groan, the man bent over to reach the bottom shelf, loosened a $15 $7.50 Russell Stover Peanuts-themed box of chocolates from its packaging, straightened back up and continued on toward Pain Relief.

IMG_3618Also a big thank you to Angela Bar for the Raffaello treats that proved just the appropriate sooth to Giannis not doing particularly well in the dunk contest. For those wondering on how they taste, they’re reminiscent of a Ferrero Rocher, just if you swapped all the chocolate with things that are white.

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WTF Is This?: Snickers Rockin’ Nut Road

IMG_3574I never really understood rocky road.

[Ed. note: I know you’re here for my candy bar expertise, but I was once an ice cream professional, SO I THINK IT’S FAIR TO SAY I KNOW A THING OR TWO ABOUT ICE CREAM; so Imma go ahead and talk about it for a minute here. I also know about mopping, tossing and catching gummi bears, and smooties, but that’s a different entry.]

It’s just chocolate ice cream with two flavors that get overpowered by the base ice cream flavor, and one of two textures that are barely distinguishable. It’s certainly not a bad flavor, I just don’t know how or why it became a staple in the ice cream flavor canon, alongside standouts like cookie dough, neapolitan and cookies and cream (LOL just kidding about neapolitan nobody eats that weird stuff on purpose). Continue reading

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A passage from a novel without any context: Vol. 1

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“Everything’s great.

.. Thank you.”

As the server walked away from his table, Jeff glanced back down at the tenders resting atop their french fry bed. He had no idea whether they were actually great — he hadn’t taken a single bite — but they looked great enough, the same Sysco breaded chicken whatevers available at any other pub. Fingers here, strips there. They were hard to screw up.

One place once had the nerve to call them “cutlettes”. Fkers. Continue reading

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