From the category archives:

Burning

My Imaginary Sexual Relationship With Ernie Els

April 9, 2012

I’ve never seen the U.S. Open, not even on on television, so I don’t understand this any more than you do. I’m not a golf fan, I don’t like that weird South African accent, and in all other ways I’m a blue-blooded straight man with a very attractive wife and two lovely kids. But there’s [...]

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Burning as a Kind of Placeholder

January 10, 2012

We struck matches under my bed, watched them ignite, stared at the yellowish flame consuming the wood in a slow but steady crawl towards our fingers. Then we blew them out. Stink of sulfur, stink of shriveled match-ember. That was the Juniper Street house. A year later, maybe, no more than that, dropping lit matches [...]

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