This was the Heather that Darien laid eyes on when he opened the door of the baling shed. She was sitting on the bench, appearing sad (he thought) not ill. She had the wide feet and downcast eyes of an NBA player on the bench as his team loses the game. That’s how Darien thought she looked. She had a scowl. Nevertheless, she looked beautiful.

A most unfortunate event took place the day that Isabel decided to take her grandfather on a trip to Caldera, a nearby port that the family used to visit.  She was in a hurry to get the trip over and done with, since a man by the name of Taylor Swift was going to buy the old Suburban. Her brother Fred decided to accompany them. They took great care to make the trip as comfortable as possible for the senior Mr. Quiñones.

The textbook explanation for this feat concerns the transformation of electricity to magnetism (and the reverse) and induced energy from one medium to another. But these accounts fail to explain what Agnes did next.

You hear him huffing his way to the house, cussing his key ring for falling from his hand. You feel his bumbling presence as he trudges through the door, letting a hint of winter wind into the hall before shutting it tight behind him. If it wasn’t for a very sudden and violent sneeze that came upon you, he likely wouldn’t have noticed you there, disheveled and defeated.

Balazs steps forward and introduces me. I tentatively reach out my hand, and his father shakes it with the instant comradery that comes from living shoulder to shoulder with ones’ neighbors in the blue-collar districts of Budapest.

Everything made Pete queasy. He once fainted at the sight of a moldy loaf of bread. Even so, he decided to take on a thankless summer job as a roadkill cleaner.

That night Barry slept fitfully. In the morning, as he sat on the toilet, he decided to pray.

Wayne coughed up a gob of phlegm. “Wanna learn your lesson the hard way, huh? Well, go right the hell ahead. Why should I give a crappie?” He barked a laugh and wriggled in my face the body of the fish he had just decapitated.

The memory of Elena’s lips was staying with him. She had the best lips. Full, fleshy, pouty. Although, she was seldom solemn enough for them to take on that pout. She was always on the brink of mischief. He loved her for that.

Gertrude’s quiet. I swear I can feel her, just on the other side of the wall. Maybe I should join her in there. She has no problem being in my space, sneaking around when she knows I won’t see her. Brings a whole new meaning to the idea of someone “seeing you when you’re sleeping.” I don’t know why she has such a problem with me seeing her, but that’s her prerogative, I suppose. But she comes in here. Why shouldn’t I go in there?