All Nighter

“I feel bad for girls with pretty eyes,” he said and rolled over on the couch, so his back was to us, and went back to sleep.

The three of us, sitting on the floor around the coffee table, playing Jenga, looked at each other, wondering what he meant. The sun was coming up, piercing through the blinds, highlighting the smoke from the butt that would just not stop burning in the ashtray.

We drift to quiet corners of the room, dragging coats to use as pillows, hoping someone else would get up and get everyone a glass of water.


9 thoughts on “All Nighter

  1. Are someone and everyone related to e.e. cummings’ noone and anyone?

    It’s an uncommon last name.

    The dude on the couch creeps me out. That’s a rapey thing to say. An eyefucker would say that. Hey baby. I like your eyes. (licks lips all creepy)

    (gets into white van)

      1. It’s brown on the inside. Rapey Eyefucker isn’t big on hygiene. He has a gold spray painted phone and parks by the playground.
        Hey little girl. You want to talk to Santa on my golden phone?
        You have such pretty eyes.

  2. Dear Craig,

    I feel bad for the readers of your story, but only because you’ve tweaked their imaginations and now they’ll all be trying to figure out what you meant and why. Great piece. Good to see you again.



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