by Milo Stevens
I was washing the dishes and I knew he was going to come over for a minute to talk. He had told me online that he really needed to get away from his roommates, so I told him to come up. As I was scrubbing crust off a frying pan I heard a soft knock - immediately I imagined him trying the door, finding it open, and walking in and over to me, pan in hand, and looking at me. He breathes, "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever known or ever will know," and then kisses me like Clark Gable. Instead he came in, plopped down on my bed and farted all over my sheets. After he left, I watched Breakfast at Tiffany's and thought about tomorrow.
Milo Stevens was raised in the wild shopping plazas of New Jersey. He is getting a degree, and sort of running a zine called Lo-Fidelity. Milo is made of poison.