She’s No Lady
I’m in the Tenderloin. I rendered a service, and now this guy won’t pay me. I’m no pushover, I can’t possibly let this go. Will I have to use my kung fu training?
What the Bones Said
I’m sitting underneath the stairs of a ghost tour company, in a dark nook so small I almost smack my head against the ceiling. I just met the large man sitting across from me, but I tell him I have questions about my dead grandmother who has been trying to talk to me. He says he can give me answers and hands me a small bag, filled with tiny bones.
Laura Jane Bailey
Qui Êtes Vous?
She came out of nowhere. She just appeared. One hand in her pants pocket, one hand holding a a pack of cigarettes and of course the requisite black beret. The epitome of “cool” to my young college girl self.
“Who are you?” she asked taking matches out of her pants pocket. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She locked her gaze on me.
“Who are you?” she repeated as she lit her cigarette.
“Oh, you speak English” looking around just to make sure she was actually talking to me.
“I speak whatever you need me to speak. Qui êtes vous?”
At Odds With My Selves
Debbie Reynolds has arrived with her signature flourish and something to say about Ady’s anger. It’s a lot. The talking daisy already told her to let it go, but Ady can’t figure out what that means. And Debbie thinks it’s better to wrestle. The critic is just disgusted by all of them. Who’s right? And how did it get so crowded in here?