For months and months and months I've tried to get my shitty short stories published. They haven't been (because they're shitty, obviously). So, in an attempt to move some of them out into the world, I give you this. Surrealist fiction (which is what I want to call this) is not my wheelhouse, but it was sweet, sweet torture to write. Thank you for reading, as always!
After 6 months of hand-wringing, my thesis adviser finally finished my draft. And guess what? It was as bad as I thought it was going to be.
There are two things to do after you break up: 1. Do something different with your hair. 2. Grow out your nails.