WASTE A LITTLE SHAVING CREAM
In the space  ahead of her, there seems to be something. In another room the noise is  more muffled and less revealing. Her identical twin sister is close to  climax a few feet away from her through the walls behind a David Bowie  poster. Chloe walks barefoot on the wooden floorboards back and forth in  her own room in pale movements. She regrets knowing her own face so  well and feels a need to shave or cut something. She wants more from her  refrigerator other than subdued light and loose condiments. She says  Ketchup and Dijon mustard. Because she owes so much money she stays  inside her house on nights and weekends. Lately, she has been reading  more stories of people trapped inside their houses voluntarily. She  says, Did you know there is a man in Tokyo who has never seen the city  of Tokyo. He only knows the inside of his apartment dozens and dozens of  pizza boxes, a broken empty telephone. Finally her sister orgasms arms  outstretched knocking the wall between them like a door in brief parched  momentary pleasure. Both sisters are quietly transported, now laying  motionless on either side of the wall. Although she knows better Chloe  does not feel deep significance anywhere. She goes and answers the front  door and of course no one is there. She says, Why hello person.
 Richard Chiem (b.1987) is the author of two e books WHAT IF, WENDY and  OH NO EVERYTHING IS WET NOW (with Ana C.) He is a Pushcart Prize  nominee. His work has appeared in Monkeybicycle, Magic Helicopter Press,  and Everyday Genius. His first collection of short stories YOU PRIVATE  PERSON is forthcoming from Scrambler Books (2012). He blogs here: http://richardchiem.blogspot.com/
No comments:
Post a Comment