Holycow it’s been forever since I’ve visited here. I published a new story.It’s fiction. It’s filthy, depressing and funny.
On the weekend, Helen picks me up to go and look at the new place she found. It’s an apartment with linoleum floors, small windows high up in the walls, like windows in basements. The apartment is on the 11th floor.
Helen pretends to be excited about it; she says she’s always wanted to live that high up. In the elevator, she rolls her eyes at me and pinches her nose, “Smells like schizophrenia in here.” read the rest here