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Joe lay with his head on his arm. His hand, he realized, was holding a limp, wilted dick. Jesus, he thought. Jesus. This was exactly the problem. What was it with him? He was the type of guy to go out and try to sell vacuum cleaners and end up eating twenty fucking pieces of pumpkin fucking pie. …

The funny thing about it was that at the time he felt really guilty about it. He kept thinking he should get up and go out and sell vacuum cleaners. He should get up and go out and make something of his life. It felt like he was just lying there wasting time. He kept doing it but he didn’t feel goo…

e.g., Everything I knew of love was built on this crooked foundation. In our lives, we must hold two truths at the same time. And the same way I must hold the stinging and the eruptions, I must hold something else: a sweet memory of my mother.

We were in the kitchen. I was ten years old. Her fav…

The butcher was young. He wore a black rubber apron over a white coat. There were telltale drops of blood on the white fabric. If I were a detective, he would be the prime suspect.

“We’ll take your finest steaks,” my mother said proudly. “My daughter is moving to California and we are celebratin…