No, those aren’t poorly translated Japanese metal band lyrics, nor are they the pseudo-poetic mewling of jilted emo children; those words could be, terrifyingly enough, a completely true statement. It’s all because of something called a Verneshot, and though the theory is still under debate, it i...
the man said, then spat chaw-juice onto his own boot. He glared at it with disapproval. “Played some music, and left. Then the clerk jumped over the counter and beat the victim to death? Just like that?” “Just like that,” the man agreed. He squinted at Helms’ badge again, like he couldn’t bel...
Highway 57, Mexico. Jackie. Long straights, cruise control, droning music, blasting through flat beige landscapes that never seemed to move no matter how fast we went. Highway hypnosis. I was thinking about home. About West LA and what I missed: Japanese food. Frozen yogurt. Zankou Chicken. Maybe...
I asked the pair of them. Jen’s eyebrows knit together. A little lopsided ‘y’ formed in the folds between her eyes. It was cute. But then, everything she did was cute. “I’m not following the train of thought here,” Peter said. He seemed to be emptying the entire sugar container into his coffee mu...
Byron frowned up at the pixie-cut blonde. Or rather, he frowned up at the spot where she had been a moment ago. Byron waited dutifully, but no snappy retort or ingenious mating of obscenities issued forth from the empty ledge. He was kneeling unsteadily, ankles crossed, at...
New York City, New York. Carey. The cops said Debbie tried to light a cigarette and her wig went up in flames. That’s how she died. Officially speaking. Were cops this fucking stupid everywhere, or was it just in New York City? I was trying to drink away the anger, but the parasites had been out ...