This is the story of a woman whose nipples were chewed off and broadcast about from a radio show. She told a man, and he told the world—lol. She’s low. So sad. This gal—who you call a victim; I call a warrior—stands now in a wedding dress at a boom mic. She’s got those balloon…
You know what I say they say within my mind: shit happens when you party naked with ladyboys in Bangkok (figuratively, physically, mentally, there’s an endless stream excreting from every orifice below). The endeavor began with an obscure, escalating fatigue. Yellow eyes in the bathroom mirror, for the fourth or fifth time I’ve had to…
Chet smells it before he looks. He hears the voice before it can parse. Just after that goldilocks zone of reverb strikes— “Good evening, class.” —some woman in a heady perfume (like her), same curves, hair about the same length (different color: black instead of red), walks into the room wearing a mask around her…
Four students dressed in uniforms sat in a circle around four pills. One student per pill. These ‘muscle relaxers’ as the senior boy explained to Mey, came in the same diluted blue shade, etched with various faces that looked to be drawn on with sharpie. The pill assigned to Mey came with deeper cobalt stars…
The room is polished, posh. There are magazines on the table, arranged like a hand of cards. The first letter of each title is visible, except for the final magazine completing what seems to be collage art: ____. The grandfather clock has been ticking since he sat down, and yet the hands of the clock…
The video starts as these things usually do, for entertainment such as this, in minor variation. There’s a slight shake to the chest-cam’s frame as the POV holding it walks amidst the distant sound of Walmart foot traffic. Shoes squeak on the darkened tile. The overhead fluorescence flickers. Rows of crooked shelves stocked with off-brand…
From a cathedral’s vaulted hall spilled the solemn tide of cybernetic hymns, drifting out onto the night’s slipstream. These dark, manufactured melodies were felt everywhere in the city: structurally for those walking the cobblestone streets as a sudden exhilaration of extravagant emotions; visibly glowing like torches for those traveling into town via train or shining…
Dear DDD, Garbage ass writing as usual. You are almost as bad as the other writers talking down to me. Take some advice from someone that knows what they are doing, an artist, a stanch and steadfast republican (a genius). Two sentence horror: I can’t believe Ben Shapiro thinks you all are professional level writers.…
The sky flared off and in the distance like a light bulb. There was no thunder or rain. I noticed the lightning, saw the clouds flicker blue and white with the lull, minus the pop. No one else at the party seemed to notice. I walked along my parents’ patio inhaling from a marijuana cartridge,…
