It was a lasagna sunset, everything Garfield would puke out after a night of too much to drink.
So underneath the mildew-y jackets older than we were and cum socks, we discovered a hollowed-out, hardcover textbook.
In the lasagna sunset we said, “Fuck it,” and opened the lid.
His stinking leukemia blood and snot smeared all over my favorite white dress, I looked forward to going to school that day.
Marcus and Delilah said they thought their son had just discovered jerking off, and had been masturbating too much.
He confessed his feelings for me as he sat on my bed, the lymph node in his neck swelled up to the size of a cat’s head. Chemo has plucked out half of his hair, this bald toad of a skeleton boy leaned down to kiss me. I turned my head.
Randy would like us to know the following:
Randy Dong is an attempting-writer and the host of Story Night New York. Randy primarily writes short-fiction and is working on his first collection. He would like to welcome everyone near New York City to join the Story Night Event, held twice a month, where cool beers are served, cool people are to be met, and cool stories are to be shared. You can find him at his Substack. Comment anywhere you'd like to chat about writing and/or learn about the specifics of Story Night New York.
Thank you, Randy, for consistently killing it. It’s always a pleasure to hear your work.
