Chlorine

by Jade Song

I died and regenerated every month. How else could I define the experience? The reasonable explanation was death. I decided when my body was wheeled into the morgue, the coroner would declare I died of being a woman. Which was far better than dying of being a man.

How was I supposed to differentiate between the pain due to the concussion and the pain due to the agony of everyday human life?

When I reflect upon my past male conquests, I realize everything about the male is so easy to win, the steps taken to seduce them so clearly outlined: laugh at their jokes, shake the butt, ask about their parents, let them talk about their emotions. In the end, the outcome is less victory, more concession.