Year: 2014

I can still remember my grandmother’s phone number, even though she has been dead for three years and for several years before that had lived first in a home and then with my parents

A few years back I was recruited by a friend, J., who is now an ex-friend, to come over and assemble an Ikea chair for a dinner party that was to be held later that day.

A woman liked my profile on a dating site—a beautiful blonde with tattoos down her arms—and we emailed for weeks and settled to meet at a winery by a lake. She wrote me a week before our date

Kit Reed   Kit Reed’s serialized story, Kickenders, continues with part three today. You can go back and read part

We regrouped at Mel’s.

A little wine does wonders. Melanie says, “I bet Senski would do it if we had the money.”

“If we knew what Senski does.”

“Whatever he does, it works. I heard if you put down ten K

“I dunno, Mel, who do you think we should get to end this?”

“End what?”

I love Melanie, but she doesn’t always get it– unless she is pretending. I jerk my head at The Sanctum,

The horde came to hear his noontime speech, and they trample on grounds made of marble and cobblestone when he is finished. Buildings line the Center’s periphery, energy-efficient panels and solar-absorbent glass buttressed against the old riot-proof complexes and antebellum courthouses preceding them.