Fragments of some of our life’s firsts remain in our memory, like a pesky piece of gum on a shoe, like a C-section scar on a tummy. My first crush. My first wank. My first kiss. My first porno. My first fuck. My first kill. Her name was Nadya, and she was cute. I’d stare… Continue reading

Did my heart still pulsate every time any of our friends uttered Gina’s name? Did her voice ever echo in my mind in the middle of any past night? Did her face ever appear on any stranger in Cinnabar? Would I be willing to walk each of the hundred streets in the city to follow… Continue reading

I wouldn’t recommend treating your friends as love gurus, but I didn’t have a choice so I went against my own advice. Continue reading

You shouldn’t trust somebody who refused to turn away from the shores of the past. The earth revolved only one way and time moved only in one direction, forward. Those who protested the motion of time’s unrelenting ocean expired as prisoners of their own island, barren and lonely. Continue reading

I could list a few people who I believed could outrun Gina any day: stick-thin Amy who I had never seen leave the reception area, Madeleine in a pair of six-inch stilettos and even Leopold who never went beyond a jog when using a treadmill. But that assumption didn’t deter me from my mission. After… Continue reading

If given a chance to save a damsel in distress, would you take it or leave it? Any dick, thinking or unthinking, would take it because nothing shone brighter than any medal or trophy, except any gallant act, ancient or modern. What if the damsel was a cheesecake-liking and carbonara-loving, soon-to-be-married lady, in short, FAT?… Continue reading