I write to Heather because she hasn’t written to me. Is your daddy an alcoholic? I scribble down on thin paper. I fold it up into some lumpy triangles and send it sailing across the linoleum floor. The schoolchildren stare at the thing as it slides, all plump cheeks...
Oriana M (she/her)
My Review of The French Dispatch
On our first date, Marc-Anthony takes me to see the newest Wes Anderson movie. “He’s a visionary,” he tells me. “Just spectacular.” Marc-Anthony is a tall Italian-American boy who lives on a street named after his great-grandfather. He says that was back when you...
Olive
When I was in highschool I had my first and only girlfriend. She shared her name with a pitted vegetable, and we began to date because she drove me home everyday from school in her tiny grey car. It was ornamented with all sorts of items, such as banana peels and...