The Orphanage by the Lake

by Daniel G. Miller

people knew what open concept was. Kenny lounges at the folding card table/dining table and works his way through a trough of Froot Loops while he reads.

MY GUY!

He reminds me of an Asian Stay Puft Marshmallow Man except without the sailor hat.

I need to see this

I say with doughnut crumbs hanging from my lips.

this is me to a teeee

If you find her by the end of next week, I’ll give you one hundred thousand dollars.”

*Dr evil laugh*

“I reported it to the police. They did a thorough investigation, but frankly, I don’t think it was their top priority.

🙃

and men don’t always listen.

😅

She loves music and is the biggest Olivia Rodrigo fan,

SAAAMMMEEEE

She sings it a cappella, rendering the words poignant and moving. Her voice carries through the hushed space, beautiful and haunting. A soprano with an echo of depth.

wordy af

Mia sings those famous lyrics: about being lost, about how if you look, you can find her.

🧐🧐🧐🧐🧐🧐

The assault doesn’t end when the attack ends. It stays with you, hiding behind every door you open, every corner you turn, even haunting your dreams.

Yanush shoots me a nod and a knowing grin. He’s missing a tooth, but somehow it suits him.

😂

Yanush’s wonder dog,

“Why is your nose like that?”

BECAUSE IT IS, OK?!

He’s at least six feet six.

my new Tesla still glistening.

Gross

He pulls out a cigarette with a white filter and lights it with a Zippo. I notice that his hands have a slight shake. Normally, I’m not a big fan of smoking, but Riether somehow makes it look cool and sexy, like in the old movies my dad and I used to watch. As he walks, he scratches the stubble on his chin and looks up at the sky. He opens his mouth to speak but then stops. He opens it again, then closes it around his cigarette, takes a drag, and releases.

reads like a screenplay

Not my worst first date.

I once left a $4 tip a bucca di beppo on a date.

I give a loud burp. It’s nice to be able to burp in front of someone.

this writer sucks

As I get out of my Uber sedan with one hubcap missing, I can’t help feeling a little ridiculous. Other guests are stepping out of stylish SUVs or valeting luxury cars, carrying the self-assuredness of wealth. And here I am standing alone in my consignment dress, like a kid who got lost on the way to the school dance.

it's like the author is trying to hit a word count for an essay