Saturday Night_Black Friday_It's All in How You Say It_Hungry Eyes
Catalog Guide:
Saturday Night
“Are you coming tonight?”“Is that some kind of joke?”“Is that?” Lenny’s voice adopted a tone of innocence.When I looked back at her, she stopped walking and stood there staring at me, her one finger pressed against her lower lip. When I first met her, I thought her absent mindedness was an act. I learned fast I was wrong. Her oversized brown coat hung around her defensively married with a thick scarf of olive green. “You do know it’s like seventy degrees out, right?”“There is a chill in the air.” She illustrated pulling her crocheted beanie over her ears.My short sleeve shirt and holey blue je...
Black Friday
Peter Smith. That's my name. I live in a suburb, in a split-level 1960s ranch sandwiched between two McMansion infills. Both of the infills are new and have twice the square footage of my humble abode. And today, the day after Thanksgiving is my one day to sleep late. To relax when I am supposed to be working. But this year, the doorbell rings. Not a frantic ring, like something important. And there is no second or third ring from someone who is insistent, like Evelyn across the street bringing us half of an uneaten pecan pie from yesterday because she lives alone and wants to keep her figure....
It's All in How You Say It
I tented my fingers and squeezed my eyelids shut. “For the last time, it’s juh-juh-gif.”“Alina,” Paul, my boyfriend of six months began, “It’s widely accepted as gif with a guh sound.”I let my arms fall to my sides in surrender. His slight smile and the fringe of hair falling down his forehead melted any desire I had to fight against his incorrect claim. He looked especially cute in his white undershirt, with the dishtowel tossed over his shoulder. The creator of the GIF had both the first and final say, as far as I was concerned, but he wasn’t my boyfriend.My apartment filled with the aroma ...
Hungry Eyes
“Today’s weather is beautiful. Amazing. Frankly, I’ve never seen a better day, Melania.” “I agree, hon. The picnic basket is almost ready.” She spent the entire morning preparing the basket. Two crispy pieces of sourdough, beautiful shades of light brown almost toasted-like, and a light fluffy airy center. The smallest-sized Tupperware had three scoops of cold butter. Two more large containers with piders. One for moon-shaped sliced avocado, tomato, cream cheese, and mayonnaise. The other for smoked bacon, turkey, ham, and leftover pepperoni that had been hiding, evading the rule of law. Sh...