Mending School

When the last ship vanished into the sky, afterburners flickering briefly in the dense black cloud ceiling that shrouded our world, there were fires. There were more of us then, and we poured, angry, through the streets, a human pyroclastic…

The last time we set foot on land was over two years ago. How odd that we are floating slowly towards the Port of Los Angeles. It took us four days from when we first saw the mountains of shipping containers to be close enough to shore to get there by dingy.

When someone you’ve had sex with hundreds of times compares you to a flimsy, transparent mechanism made for stopping insects, you have to examine yourself.