Status Updates From Motel: An Anthology

“Location is not the issue... We shuffle cities like a lousy playlist, as is.”

The great pines swish so sadly. Like there was so much they didn’t do, too.

“Who cares if we’re slick with sweat and lake spit? It’s called getting dirty and drug dealers don’t fuck with anybody clean.”

“In our green-shingled slice of Heaven, I pose like an old oil painting, towel open. “

“can’t see the host cabin through the wall of Spanish moss and Slenderman branches. So, I smile as I slink out of my towel, like I planned to skinny-dip from the start.”

Goddang, this's a big book lol. Feels like 40 stories

Diverse collection. Jo Withers story was so cute and clever with kids mistaking a gimmicky call girl for a real nurse.

“Jackson’s frowning on that bill ’cause he scalped more than twenty li’l Indians.”

“Maybe that’s why we haven’t left Florida. If the air is as humid and fertile as pussy, how can’t the stress-relief of sex be addictive?”

imagine how much more red and purple would spring up if I swiped it across his face. The sawtooth swirls of skin. The scabbing mountains and tender valleys. The fucking shame.”

“It doesn’t hurt.” He proves it with a kiss. Cinnamon mint. E-cigarette. Colgate. A few of my favorite things.

I sense the slowing of his internal buzzing. Like when the night can finally yawn once the crickets stop fiddling.”

I already found God. Or at least my favorite Latter-Day sinner. He kisses me. Once. Twice. A little lick on my bottom lip.”

Olive Eyes sighs. “She’s a peach.”
“A whole tree’s worth.” I take up his hand, walking toward our cabin. “Least that twenty was fake.”
“All of it’s fake. But it’s still nice to have.”

“If this is cult country, I’m way overdue to drop acid and baptize my flesh in some sweet Florida pond scum.”