Stories tagged adolescence

There are questions I will never ask you

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There are questions I will never ask you because there are answers you will never give me As you said, we were basically children back then thin-skinned and easily maimed to never recover again only to become terminally sane.


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Back when I was fifteen, Svengal, Mohammed and I used to scamper up to the roof of our sixteen story apartment building and use it as our Masturbatory. We called it that because it served as a sort of observatory where we could diligently perform our rece

Session Fifteen

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"That it was my stepdad's fault."


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What? No, no, where did my world go? I was in the middle of… something. What's going on? What's stroking my face?

Where's the show?

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Henry noted the live hips rubbing against his and thought it cool. It was not often that parts of the female anatomy made contact with his own, still mutating, parts and so there was a brief thrill of the unknown spiking along his vertebrate, small explos

Diary of a Lost Girl

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They were all in love with tortured musicians, 22-year-old geniuses who hanged themselves after making one perfect album. The musicians generally lived in England. It was safer that way.

Tabula Rasa

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When I was younger, I tried very hard to be myself, but it never worked. I'd close my eyes, wait a beat, open them and slowly bring them into focus. This is the new me, the only me. Never worked, not once. It could only last a minute or two, so I…

My Hairy Thumbnail

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I was a gangly 11 years old, a year before the Watergate hearings pre-empted the afternoon cartoons on television, when I discovered an uncle's girlie magazine during routine reconnaissance of my grandmother's hall closet.

Liquor and Older Women

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"What is a vageena?" I wanted to know.


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I'm waiting for your voice. My trembling hand is so damp the phone could slip from my fragile grasp at any moment. Each ring burns in my ear and makes the washing machine in my stomach tumble faster and faster. After three rings, or it could be four, or forty, I hear…

Grocery Deliveries

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I was shooting baskets in the driveway when the Mexican kid delivered the groceries. He drove in fast and loud . . .

Soon to Be a Minor Motion Picture (excerpt)

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Man, you never ceased to crack me up! If you thought you'd just been called a homo, you probably wouldn't want to try to disprove it by grabbing hold of a naked guy and wrestling him to the floor of a shower room.

The Whippy Guy

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He was the tall, whippy type. Dangerous.


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Waking in the middle of the night, tangled in the hotel sheets, I wanted to hear the story again: their pilot friend, the war, his specialty. "It's just a screw, son," Dad said, "nothing exotic."


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It's a tunnel, you know, like the neck of a bottle, the tunnel the hair comes up, it's coming out soon, I'm an adolescent now, dammit.