When I met him my life split down the middle. Before him and after him. Like history, B.C. and A.D., except I never understood why, if B.C. means Before Christ, A.D. isn’t A.C. After Christ. The first time we had sex I thought I would split in two. I felt my body pushed to some
Guy in a pizza uniform gets on the train. His face is shot full of holes. ‘Do you mind if I sit here,’ he says, voice high, ice-green eyes unblinking. I move my feet. ‘Not at all.’ I know what he is, but good manners cost nothing. He sits down opposite and I count the
Each new door opening was a fuck-off heroin hit of excitement. It never got old, but the first was the best. He’ll never beat the first time. Each lift of the key to the keyhole was a fresh needle to skin. The metal on metal slide into the door. A soft, dull click and an
