The Pisces

by Melissa Broder

At first I felt bad for him, because he was old and would sometimes bring soup and there is nothing sadder than an older man eating soup alone.

As we kissed I imagined eating his tail with garlic butter.

Why were some sadnesses so much more permissible than others? Why did it seem like everyone was going to be okay except for me?

This was just what people did now. We went from emotion to phone. This was how you didn’t die in the twenty-first century.

I still didn’t love myself. I wasn’t sure how or when that was going to happen. But maybe it would if I continued to stay alive.