I never wanted this suburban negativity.All I ever wanted was just to be me.But my Hunter plucked me down from an ancient cloud.I forgot my addictions, he made me feel proud.But I guess my dreams of domesticityWould always come to an end,As the drugs pulled me back, on them I depend.So ruby red lipstick is this evening’s selectionWith black liquid eyeliner applied with perfection.A purple lace g-string, a matching basqueR...

A vinyl record chirps out the chocolaty smooth baritone of Nat King Cole and his 1960 album, The Magic of Christmas, as we’re processed, lifting the precinct’s normally dingy atmosphere to something almost magical. Thing is though, the steel cuffs around my wrists aren’t at all about that magical, ‘Deck the Hall,’ cheer. They prefer sucker punches of ball-busting reality and the sphincter tightening nature of repeated thr...

Christmas Day. Shelly was in the driver’s seat, her bunny slipper on the pedal, steering wheel in one hand while she searched through the stations of the radio for something that wasn’t Celine Dion singing Come All Ye Faithful. “Deer!” I screamed, pointing out the windshield, covering my eyes. I am not sure how she missed it. I credit the coke we’d snorted earlier. Either that or divine providence. “Fucking Rudolf!” We bl...

The crowd roared as the band took the stage. As the bass began to thump out a rhythm, the drummer soon joined in. The decibel level shot through the roof, and that was just the noise of the fans in the audience. The band knew these weren’t their fans. No, these fans were there to see Linkin Park. This band was just there as the opening act in their first ever major gig. Nonetheless, they were sky high on adrenaline as wel...

I. Giant, multicolored sails litter the rolling turquoise waves of the Pacific. From this distance, they’re like flecks of paper mache swaying back and forth in the wind, waving little goodbyes as they drift farther and farther out. There’s a hard metallic clank as the hatch locks into place. “All set,” a twanging southern voice calls out. In the mirror, a slim shape in a tank top and a straw Stetson gives a thumbs-up, a...

Elegant, beautiful, I was the belle of the ball. ...I was meant to be, anyway. Just last night... The stress of everything had been starting to get to me. Work. Family. Life. Planning the... it. Everything was building, coalescing, and then, quite suddenly, it stopped. It was over. I didn't feel it anymore. I was free. He left me. An instant, a flash, a horrifying blast of anguish. He was just... gone. Absent. Vanished. A...

June 2005 Slants of moonlight spilled through the cheap, ugly motel curtains, throwing soft silver glows on discarded clothing. A broken lamp dangled from a table, cord taut, the shattered bulb still flickering. The orange sparks of light were locked in tune with the muffled rattling of an ice machine and the hum of cicadas going about their own song and dance of seduction. They had some catching up to do there. Hers was...

Seattle, Winter ‘07 Her name was Lucy, or at least that’s the name she used, and she was a junkie. I didn’t need to see the track marks to know. In my line of work, I’d seen enough addicts to ID them quickly. She said she was 25, another lie. Closer to 20 would be my guess. That’s the thing about junkies. Lying comes naturally. It’s second nature. “I want to get clean.” See? Translation. I’d rather go to rehab then the sl...

Hi. My name is Chris, though some know me as Christine. I am John Collins’ mistress. We care deeply for each other. John “keeps” me. He supports me financially and in return it is my pleasure to keep his sex life exciting, as well as entertaining any of his gentleman friends who drop over. It all began innocently enough, I suppose. I had just turned eighteen and had moved out from my family’s home to be on my own. To supp...

Tom was almost seventy. We lived on adjacent streets and his property backed on mine. I had moved in only a couple of weeks earlier. I was renting the place. I was so excited to be on my own at last, especially because I loved to crossdress. My new freedom was exhilarating. One day I’d been in my back yard in the late evening, dressed in a cute white bikini. I was lying face down on a lounger, my bikini briefs down low en...

The lullaby of 24th street haunted my steps. A far off siren heralding yet another robbery gone bad. Laughter fueled by too much liquor and swearing fed by frustration. Voices raised in anger, seething with barely contained violence. The sound of a bottle shattering into a billion pieces on the side walk across the street. Hip hop or RnB exploding from a bar every time the door opened. And always, the frightened pitter pa...