misery tourism

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Corporate-sponsored astronauts are about to touch down in the parking lot of Burger King.

The above video is an archive of the latest edition of the Misery Loves Company social reading series.

The welk crunched my memory in the loggerhead’s neck.

The dimly lit figure raised its arm, holding an iron shaft, and Collin shot him twice.

He talks to no one.

I drove slowly down the dirt road in my girlfriend’s mother’s jeep on one spare tire now, worry thoughts flooding my mind.

The above video is an archive of the latest edition of the Misery Loves Company social reading series.

I collect my tears in mason jars akin to those that catch the leaks of rain from my window sill.

I’ll put you
down

The softness of my mattress is oppressive.