ArchiveAugust 2014

The carnival was closing for the night. Vendors were packing up and counting their rolls of cash. You are nowhere to be found. The sun is sinking, nesting in the branches. I call. It goes straight to voicemail. Vendors and teenage girls decked out in short-shorts roll their eyes at me screaming your name. She’s with me. You aren’t.   “It’s okay,” she says, wrapping her arm around my waist...