Tuesday, November 10, 2009


by Ari Collins

"Here," she said, shedding a striped mitten and digging her long fingers into the snow. She pushed a cold clump to my knee. "Next time you hurdle a fence to impress somebody, land on your feet, okay?"

When the snow-water began running down my shin, I limbered up. This time I would make it.


Sebatinsky said...

These are the same people from the story below it, just earlier.

Ari Collins said...

NO, goddamnit. THESE Ari characters lived happily fucking after, okay?

Angel Zapata said...

Next time it may prove prudent to dig under the fence. Cool tale.