Epilogue: For the first time in my adult life, I didn’t have a goal. I wanted a lasting relationship, a reason to stay, a purpose for a life in Brooklyn.
Chapter X: The progression of the day had brought us together, our legs touching as I argued with myself whether or not I should kiss her. It seemed a foregone conclusion, but I’d been wrong before.
Chapter VIII: She held out a box cutter. “Take this. Just in case.” The darkened St. Roch neighborhood was no place to walk without protection.
Chapter V: Chicago brought its share of challenges for Selene and me, financial and personal, but whereas in San Francisco there were common foes and foils to unite us, in Year 5, it was just the two of us.
I'm roughly a third of the way through my TEFL Certification course with ITA. The course is designed to prepare students to teach English in a variety of classrooms, both traditional and nontraditional, as well as to work as a private tutor. As I read about different teaching philosophies and method, I can't help but think about … Continue reading Teachable Moments: The Fragility of Manhood
Tunnels fill and tunnels whistle with the passing of trains from Manhattan to Brooklyn, carrying doctors, patients, lovers and lusters, in expectant hesitation and anxious calculation
I wish more movies and books in the popular canon indulged in unreliable perspectives. While common wisdom claims this is the generation of irony, earnest narrators and protagonists remain quite in vogue. There is nothing wrong with sincerity, and in fact I frequently prefer it to irony which in the hands of lesser artists is nothing more than a feeble cover for having nothing to say. But fiction (and non-fiction, for that matter) benefits from a willingness to suggest, “Here’s one perspective, but it’s just one of many, and maybe it’s not even a very good one.”
cross-legged queer you make the margins pretty