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Once Mom finally came to terms with the fact that my brother was gay, she became convinced he was a serial killer. “He has all the signs,” she told me as she trimmed my hair. “Signs?” I asked, watching her in the…
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4152
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My serial killer can't commit. His knife blade is dull and raises red marks across my skin the way a pencil eraser might--long, pink, but hardly fatal. "That the best you can do," I taunt despite myself. "Not that great a serial killer, huh? Too little practice?" I had…
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102531
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Your place is extra.
No it isn't.
It is, baby.
The man was as aroused by her discomfort as he had been annoyed by her laugh. She wasn't laughing now.
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3332
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Will you read this and tuck it away into the crowded corners of your mind or will you show it to them?
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