#33 Fiction

Lottie is lucky that by never being able to purchase property or even find a secure enough rental to feel comfortable raising kids, not to mention the climate crisis, she probably would never need a family lawyer.

All week we inspect the meat under white light. We notice flesh risen in bulbs. I learn to use a scalpel—Nina’s hand on my hand—so that the removal is barely visible.

Hugo ate pasta with tomato sauce and afterwards excused himself to the restroom to ensure his mouth was not tinted orange. He asked me what my vice was. He said his was apathy.