#dirtyThursdays
stories and articles by authors of all gender identities all over the world, shared every Thursday
Two Canes
Terry Sanville
Cleaning Up
Andrea Goyan
Soup's On
Mike Murphy
Mastering Bonsai
Laura Roberts
Ninth Floor
Tom Franken
Designer Jeans
Adrian Slonaker
You Just Don't Get It
Mike Pasley
"They placed their canes in the basket just inside the front door. Douglas hurried forward to clear away the refuse in the living room and check the bathroom for anything disgusting. When he finished, Beverly had vanished. Maybe she bailed after getting one look at how I live. My wife used to get after me..."
“You’re so beautiful.” Wisps of smoke curled out of your nose and from between your lips. “What are you doing for the rest of your life?” The waitress snorted as she set the drinks on the table. She looked at me and rolled her eyes...."
"He took another couple of spoonfuls and wiped his mouth with the napkin. “So, tell me about this lady you’re gonna meet here tonight,” the waitress continued. “An old girlfriend?”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“One nighter?”
“More than that.”...'
"It’s not fussy, you can water it once a week or something, but water it every day and eventually you’ll have root rot. Once you’ve got rotten roots, the whole tree’s done for. Nope, you’ve got to keep track of these things, back off a bit, take it slow.
That’s what I’m doing with Raven. A firm hand. Not too hard, not too fast. Give her a taste for it, let her settle into a routine."
"Forget the emotion, just focus on the facts. But I can’t get rid of the emotion. That feeling of freezing warmth coating my throat, a scream refusing to be let out. It was rage and sadness and pure disappointment directed towards the world and the ones I loved and most importantly, myself..."
"After discovering Brady Bunch reruns a couple of years later, I fashioned a clumsy dress from yellow construction paper and Scotch tape and announced that I wanted to be Jan Brady; Mom shot back that “the Brady boys are nice too.”...'
“Don’t make me say it. It’s embarrassing for both of us.”
“Say it,” I demand. She watches me, remembering, assessing and dissecting. “I’m sorry, but that display, it changed the way I look at you.”
“Why? Because it showed I have feelings? That I care for more in this world than only myself. My sensitivity is one of the reasons you fell in love with me.”