There was an emptiness with her. It was a squalid, bleak emptiness without her. She prompted existential questions. Is this it? And then I found the lack of her prompts troubling. Who the fuck uses the word squalid? Who even knows what that means? Vocabulary is a handicap. You can’t feel something if you can’t think it. But what if you can think of everything? Walk in my parade for this block.
All the Fiction I Care to Remember