Author’s Note: A small number of you will recognize this story, as it’s from the near-beginning of this tumblr. I am re-posting it for fun, because it’s one of the true ones and it took place in the bar where the reading is on Sunday. “Matilda, you should dance with Justin.” I hate my birthday. I usually find some way to spend it at work and away from...
Markie Day sucks cocks. So does Ayisha. Reading material is limited in the holding cell of the prescinct on East 5th street in the East Village. It’s not like there’s an in-flight magazine, and while the graffiti lacked a certain variety, it was better than nothing. He did wonder how they snuck anything in here that could scratch or write on a wall. The bars made eight-inch square...