small-press

Their conversation ceased abruptly with the entry of an oddly-shaped man whose body resembled a certain vegetable. He was a thickset fellow with calloused and jaundiced skin and a patch of brown hair, a frizzy upheaval. We will call him Bell Pepper. Bell Pepper sidled up beside The Drippy Man and looked at the grilled cheese in his hand. The Drippy Man, a bit uncomfortable at the heaviness of the gaze, politely apologized and asked Bell Pepper if he would like one. __hy is one of your legs fatter than the other?_ asked Bell Pepper. The Drippy Man realized Bell Pepper was not looking at his sandwich but towards the inconsistency of his leg sizes. __ou always get your kicks pointing out defects?_ retorted The Drippy Man. __ust curious. Never seen anything like it before._ __ was raised not to feel shame and hide my legs in baggy pants._ __o you flaunt your deformity by wearing short shorts?_ __ike you flaunt your pockmarks by not wearing a mask?_ Bell Pepper backed away, kicking wide the screen door, making an exit to a porch over hanging a dune of sand that curved into a jagged upward jab of rock. __e is quite sensitive,_ commented The Dry Advisor. __ho is he?_ __ fellow who once manipulated the money in your wallet but now curses the fellow who does.

I am running and singing and when it__ raining I__ the only one left on the open street, smiling with my eyes fixed on the sky because it__ cleaning me. I__ the one on the other side of the party, hearing laughter and the emptying of bottles while I peacefully make my way to the river, a lonely road, following the smell of the ocean. I__ the one waking up at 4am to witness the sunrise, where the sky touches the sea, and I hold my elbows, grasping tight to whatever I__e made of myself.