A House With Good Bones

by T. Kingfisher

There aren’t many social advantages to being fat, but I’ll give it this, nobody ever thinks you’re a cat burglar.

Anyway, give me a trash heap over a grave any day. A grave tells you how people act when they’re on their best behavior in front of Death. Trash heaps tell you how they actually lived.

Waffle House at four in the morning is a liminal space occupied by long-haul truckers, bleary-eyed shift workers, and teenagers so high they can smell God’s breath.

I asked my phone if it was connected to the internet and it told me that it had a very close relationship with the internet. I attempted to pull up a web page and it informed me that it was not that kind of relationship.

I could hop into an ER carrying my severed leg and squirting blood from the stump and the doctor would congratulate me on having dropped all that leg weight and tell me to keep up the good work.

There are plenty of truly evil people in the world who are also absolutely gaga over their grandchildren and would knife someone at Christmas to get them a Cabbage Patch Kid.