Thursday, September 30, 2010

Gut

by Ari Collins


“Not in public. Honey.”

“But your tummy’s so squishy,” she said. “How do you touch anything else?”

He coughed. “Train’s late.”

“It’s important. Like... like... running my hand along the railing back there.”

He looked at his shirt, then grabbed her wrist and turned her dirty palm upwards. “Goddamnit, Hope. This is a formal event.”

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