He typed something in, wordlessly. Alas, New Yorker, alas. Wander the... I’d brought some food home from this fusion Caribbean spot by NRG Stadium, and he picked at the beef patties with his fingers, separating his plantains from his rice.For the first time, the man gave me a look, a bemused sort of thing, the look you’d give a certain kind of shithead kid. If anything, it seemed like another attempt to push me aside.He grinned again, widely. We’d met at a Starbucks, after he fucked up my name. How did you two even know?This prompted a smile from the man, between mouthfuls of eggs and jelly and bagel. I tore off a corner of a biscuit.We just knew, he said. I’d made something like a bed on the sofa, out of some hoodies and a quilt my mom had given me. I was eight, I think, and I spent most of the trip holding my stomach.

He shrugged right back. Puh-lease.Funke is a mildly interesting character and the “visitor” shows potential. She caught the flu on a Tuesday. We drove to Buc-ee’s. Listener-supported WNYC is the home for independent journalism and courageous conversation on air and online.

In case you missed it, the nation's capital has officially become a top tier foodie destination with a … Share. That’s all you need to know.There’s more to life, the man said, and he reached for my chips.Before I could lift the bag, he’d grabbed four, five, six, dropping crumbs all over the carpet.The next day, I told Funke, one of my co-workers at the gas station, about my visitor.

In case you missed it, the nation's capital has officially become a top tier foodie destination with a stream of accolades... Few of those feelings are as difficult to wrestle with as the feeling of serenity. She gave me a long look, turning away from her phone.I could ask you the same thing, she said. I knew that he’d met my mother in Toronto, and that they’d moved to New York, and then to Tampa, before tumbling over to Houston. Beskrivning. It’s your home away from home with free museums and America’s front yard. I’m fucking broke.Eh, the man said, and then he didn’t say anything else.He picked a little more at his plate, scooping his peas into piles.You have anything to drink here, he said. I knew that he’d lived on the coast. But you have to say it. The scene in which the narrator is asked his father’s true love in a security question, only to find it is not the name of his mother, is very well done. I’m not exactly on top of the sexual pyramid.Now you’re making assumptions about me, my visitor said, smiling.We looked at the tables beside us—Korean couples and Mexican families and some Nigerian nurses enjoying the end of their workday.I think you could be more kind to yourself, the man said. And also NPR. A fuck from time to time.This dinner isn’t going to end with you teaching me some massive lesson about myself, I said. We’ll see you soon. Once again to the Thai Spice, down the road. He hated the walk to school, but he never missed a day of it.

All things considered.And I’d like to know if you feel the same. Eventually, my mother and I settled into a circuit between our hotel and a McDonald’s, while my father disappeared for hours at a time, meeting us in the lobby after the sun set.I sat with my mom by the concierge. And also NPR. So we kept doing it. Yesterday I was just doing my thing, minding my own business, and suddenly the peasants got unruly.” I asked him to repeat it.His lover, this guy said, rubbing both of his elbows.I made a new kind of face. I almost didn’t answer, since I wasn’t expecting my fuck buddy. She started to hand me the boxes I’d dropped, and then she dropped them, too.That’s the thing, Funke said. He napped, and talked in his sleep, and then he woke up in conversation with himself, cheesing at the punch line.When my visitor fell asleep, I slipped over to the fuck buddy’s apartment. Sorry, your blog cannot share posts by email. The weird line breaks and pseudo-minimalism, the lack of quotation marks, the short sentences, sort of half-journal, half-poem; just a mishmash all around (not to mention derivative of Jenny Offill, who’s overrated, but at least it was her own thing).

We took her to the hospital on a Thursday. It was obvious. When I asked my visitor if he wanted to see I’d have a heart attack, he said. Factoid: Lake Bryan, located in southeastern Washington along the remote lower Snake River, provides for water fun and relaxation. It was entirely too late for anyone to be visiting, but the man in front of me said that he’d been a friend of my father’s—and I slipped on the face I wore for those people.

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