"What are you doing?" I ask. I look from L. to the two guys she's talking to. "They're Sigma Nus," L. answers. "They go to school near here." "Hi," they say. "Get in the car, L.," I say and put my wallet back in my purse. I've just paid for our gas. "What?" she asks. …
Continue reading Creeps at Gas Stations and Other Great Places
* The ideas are there, but not the energy. Where did it all go?
* Sometimes one has no story to tell. Or perhaps has no energy to tell it. Or maybe it is time to be quiet.
The story starts like this. I go to a bar with friends. My boyfriend doesn't come with me because he never goes with me anywhere. He wants to see me only after 10pm, and I think he doesn't want to be seen with me. In the bar's courtyard two young men strike up a conversation …
It is Valentine's Day, and I do something I've never done for a guy before. I cook dinner. That morning I'd gone to a wedding in a friend's living room, but I'd picked out my silky blouse and skirt less for that important occasion and more with the tactophobe in mind. Maybe if I looked …
"What time is your final exam?" my roommate asks, poking my shoulder. I open one eye. "Eight o'clock." "It's 8:30," she says. I fly out of my top bunk after three hours of sleep. I pull on a sweater that is on the floor. My hair is matted and tangled. Sheets lines etch my face. …
"Would you like to dance?" he says. I'm sitting in a country/western bar with my best friend, S., and my dad's girlfriend. The man standing at our table is tall and lanky. He wears a plaid shirt, a wide silver belt buckle, dusty jeans, and cowboy boots. I assume he drives a pickup or a …
"This song," the DJ says, "is dedicated to the lady in red in the middle of the dance floor." The Prince song begins, and I like Prince. I keep dancing. My friend C. laughs and points at me. "What?" I shout over the music. "Red!" she says and swings herself around to the beat. I …
A glimpse of the novel and the plan. Go to Lake Belle.
"I like you," he said. "No, you don't," I said. "Why do you say that?" he asked, exasperated. He'd been trying for almost an hour to get me to agree to a date. "I just do." "No, you don't." "You don't know me!" He threw his arms up in the air. "I know I like …
Marta Pelrine-Bacon 