Vladimir

by Julia May Jonas

I’ve always felt the origin of anger in my vagina and am surprised it is not mentioned more in literature.

what the hell sure !

What did I want with a husband who wanted my attention? I wanted to avoid, and I wanted to be avoided.

shes kinda real

how neutered the kids were now, calling their moms every day, prizing friendship over romance.

me core

If I can’t be a woman who is effortlessly beautiful, I wish I could be one of those women who, gracefully or ungracefully, move through the world unconsciously, with a kind of peace about their physical form.

I was too happy that we were speaking again to let her annoyance feel like anything other than the feeble blows that daughters lob against their mothers to make sure they’ll still be loved, even at their most peevish.

I couldn’t help but feel slightly stirred at the sight of Vlad on top of my husband, his knees spread wide, the fabric of his pants stretched against his rear.

girl is this the moment