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The Dead Mother’s Son“I made a list when I was in college: Hitler, Stalin, bin Laden, etc. Of the countless horrible things these people did, none of them sank to my level. To my unimaginable-bastard-of-the-world, hater-of-the-fellow-human, lack-of-any-compassion sort of level.” | His cause had no logic; when he was younger, Patrick was simply mean. Addicted to Pleasure“I do solemnly swear that I had an addiction. This I must confess. Eighth grade. Ninth grade. Tenth grade. Eleventh grade. I was addicted to masturbating. I’m a girl. I just knew that I must have been a complete freak of nature.” | But in spite of her feelings of shame, Darian continued into her 20s, and has even gotten away with it at work. Color Me Blue“My mascara is running, dripping ominous black rivulets onto the greeting card trembling between my fingertips. I want it to be more, to become an inky flood. To blot out their happy faces. To blot out her perfect teeth. To blot out his perfect sweater. To blot out their perfect life.” | Though together in sin, they could never be together in love. Stalking Nick“I tried to stop, but I’m doing it again. I’m all about the search and destroy. Not so much on the destroy, but very big on the search. You can run, but you can’t hide. That’s my middle name.” | After 20 years, she doesn’t even know what Nick looks like anymore. But the search continues. Insouciance“That summer, I got stoned a lot, took a much younger lover, ate decadently, and read dozens of novels. I spent the time backpedaling from adulthood. It was a summer of pure and unapologetic insouciance.” | Perhaps the bigger confession: It was also the first time in her 29 years she’d lived by her rules alone. The Art of Thievery“I loved to read, but buying books was a bit steep on a school kid’s allowance. If I wanted to get the newest comic books and the crispest paperbacks before the public library got its copies, my only choice was to ‘liberate’ them from the capitalist grasp of the bookseller.” | And he went on to develop quite the technique. The Man Who Saved My Life“I became more delusional every day. I thought the staff was listening to my conversations with a device in the wall. I mentioned this to all my visitors.” | Several years later, Art realized the young shrink he’d so despised had actually saved his life. The Oyster Queen“We got married in a small chapel on Santos Street in San Jose. I remember crosses being everywhere, crosses made from wood – raw, splintered-looking. We dined on nothing but rice and tortillas for days, making love at each position of the sun.” | But honeymoons don’t last forever. Lost Expectations“My oldest and closest friend is dead. Early this morning, she took a butcher knife from a kitchen drawer, drove to a park near her home, and slit her wrists and throat.” | Valerie’s death forces the question: How well do we ever really know someone? Death on an Appalachian Hilltop“It was in the morning when she asked for her mother, and he tried his best to explain heaven, and when she stood above the ever-deepening hole growing in the dark damp soil, she expressed to him her confusion.” | A father must both explain and survive the loss of his wife.  |
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