My sister has been to Vauxhall. Of course she has. She’s been everywhere in London. When she was drunk one night, she told me what men do together on the dark and winding paths of the pleasure garden.
Category: short story
Eddie brushes his teeth with the bathroom door open, watching the television in the living room. “Sixth inning,” Vince Scully says. “Full count, nobody out.”
An hour before our dinner with my principal, Mr. Blorenge, I was in a froth, shouting from the bathroom at Donatella. I’d been recommended, against my will, for a promotion.
All of them had personalities that announced themselves when they entered a room, that took up an enormous quantity of space, that made everyone want to straighten their unwilling spines. This would prove to be a problem.
Darryl Vickers isn’t hearing the frog sounds he’s listening for. He and Jansen are waist deep in a reeking swamp, recording ribbits. Frustrated, Vickers tromps around and chases the frogs. He manages to catch one of them. Jansen shines a flashlight on it.