Pat Foran
@pdforan.bsky.social
writer, editor, axolotl with a pretty good throwing arm
''Why do I have to understand what you're saying all the time?"
— Cory F.
https://neutralspaces.co/patforan/
''Why do I have to understand what you're saying all the time?"
— Cory F.
https://neutralspaces.co/patforan/
“ / I hate the word *savvy*, I told him /“
“where were all the people? / where were the cars and the birds? / where were the shops, the cafes, the restaurants? / who made the music and the art? / where were all the feral cats? /“
this by @kathyfish.bsky.social in Brink
“where were all the people? / where were the cars and the birds? / where were the shops, the cafes, the restaurants? / who made the music and the art? / where were all the feral cats? /“
this by @kathyfish.bsky.social in Brink
November 25, 2025 at 2:50 AM
“ / I hate the word *savvy*, I told him /“
“where were all the people? / where were the cars and the birds? / where were the shops, the cafes, the restaurants? / who made the music and the art? / where were all the feral cats? /“
this by @kathyfish.bsky.social in Brink
“where were all the people? / where were the cars and the birds? / where were the shops, the cafes, the restaurants? / who made the music and the art? / where were all the feral cats? /“
this by @kathyfish.bsky.social in Brink
“She has been this way since that wintered Tuesday in the long shadow of the war, the one they never talk about.”
“The silence is yawning.”
@mattkendrick.bsky.social in Milk Candy Review milkcandyreview.home.blog/2025/11/20/n...
“The silence is yawning.”
@mattkendrick.bsky.social in Milk Candy Review milkcandyreview.home.blog/2025/11/20/n...
Nothing certain ~ by Matt Kendrick
The day the sun forgets to rise, Mr White sits down for breakfast at precisely twelve minutes past seven. This is in the dining room. It is Tuesday. His Tuesday breakfast is a soft-boiled egg opene…
milkcandyreview.home.blog
November 25, 2025 at 2:44 AM
“She has been this way since that wintered Tuesday in the long shadow of the war, the one they never talk about.”
“The silence is yawning.”
@mattkendrick.bsky.social in Milk Candy Review milkcandyreview.home.blog/2025/11/20/n...
“The silence is yawning.”
@mattkendrick.bsky.social in Milk Candy Review milkcandyreview.home.blog/2025/11/20/n...
“… I’m thinking about the swings, and how Papi pushed harder when I said higher, and how the air felt like a warm towel and the clouds smelled like fresh linen, and …”
@karenc.bsky.social in @fictivedream.bsky.social fictivedream.com/2025/11/24/m...
@karenc.bsky.social in @fictivedream.bsky.social fictivedream.com/2025/11/24/m...
MicroMonday #33
Golden Trumpet by Marcus Silcock People went buck wild back there. The stalls heaving. I was invited inside but preferred to stay on the sidelines. On the dance floor, the sweat stuck to the ceilin…
fictivedream.com
November 25, 2025 at 2:39 AM
“… I’m thinking about the swings, and how Papi pushed harder when I said higher, and how the air felt like a warm towel and the clouds smelled like fresh linen, and …”
@karenc.bsky.social in @fictivedream.bsky.social fictivedream.com/2025/11/24/m...
@karenc.bsky.social in @fictivedream.bsky.social fictivedream.com/2025/11/24/m...
“… if not for promises made and unmade, if not for promises kept, promises unkept, promises unkempt …”
@writesofkathryn.bsky.social in @fictivedream.bsky.social fictivedream.com/2025/11/21/t...
@writesofkathryn.bsky.social in @fictivedream.bsky.social fictivedream.com/2025/11/21/t...
They would have been perfect for each other if
by Kathryn Kulpa He hadn’t been divorced, three kids, full custody, ex-wife in the state mental hospital, weekday breakfasts of edge-burnt Eggos and heated-over SpaghettiOs, any food with an O in i…
fictivedream.com
November 25, 2025 at 2:35 AM
“… if not for promises made and unmade, if not for promises kept, promises unkept, promises unkempt …”
@writesofkathryn.bsky.social in @fictivedream.bsky.social fictivedream.com/2025/11/21/t...
@writesofkathryn.bsky.social in @fictivedream.bsky.social fictivedream.com/2025/11/21/t...
“… I brought everything under control―even announced to friends I was expert at breaking bad habits, didn’t I?―until …”
@sudhab.bsky.social in @fictivedream.bsky.social fictivedream.com/2025/11/17/m...
@sudhab.bsky.social in @fictivedream.bsky.social fictivedream.com/2025/11/17/m...
MicroMonday #32
Mama, I’m Home by Sudha Balagopal I drag my chair close to the window, eyes glued on our crooked street, heart catapulting every time a young man walks by, until it gets too dark, until the s…
fictivedream.com
November 25, 2025 at 2:30 AM
“… I brought everything under control―even announced to friends I was expert at breaking bad habits, didn’t I?―until …”
@sudhab.bsky.social in @fictivedream.bsky.social fictivedream.com/2025/11/17/m...
@sudhab.bsky.social in @fictivedream.bsky.social fictivedream.com/2025/11/17/m...
“Like a shocked halo. Or a crown, afloat.”
“It might have been a shawl, unevenly draped along her right shoulder and arm. A matador’s cape. But no.”
“To squawk at the weirdness was to overlook the wonder.”
this by @melostrom.bsky.social in The Maine Review www.mainereview.com/the-wing/
“It might have been a shawl, unevenly draped along her right shoulder and arm. A matador’s cape. But no.”
“To squawk at the weirdness was to overlook the wonder.”
this by @melostrom.bsky.social in The Maine Review www.mainereview.com/the-wing/
The Wing - The Maine Review
The morning Nadine’s feathers sprouted, a light snow fell. She was standing outside, watching Meg board the school bus, noticing how the little girl’s hair, frizzy like her own, glistened with snow, m...
www.mainereview.com
November 25, 2025 at 2:25 AM
“Like a shocked halo. Or a crown, afloat.”
“It might have been a shawl, unevenly draped along her right shoulder and arm. A matador’s cape. But no.”
“To squawk at the weirdness was to overlook the wonder.”
this by @melostrom.bsky.social in The Maine Review www.mainereview.com/the-wing/
“It might have been a shawl, unevenly draped along her right shoulder and arm. A matador’s cape. But no.”
“To squawk at the weirdness was to overlook the wonder.”
this by @melostrom.bsky.social in The Maine Review www.mainereview.com/the-wing/
“Meet me there, at the road where there are two diners across the street from each other, where the fields behind them lie open to the sky, begging for rain.”
@cherylpappas.bsky.social in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/i-dreamt-of-...
@cherylpappas.bsky.social in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/i-dreamt-of-...
I Dreamt of Dust - Gooseberry Pie Lit Magazine
Photo by Stephen Tafra on Unsplash by Cheryl Pappas Meet me there, at the road where there are two diners across the street from each other, where the fields behind them lie open to the sky, begging f...
gooseberry-pie.com
November 17, 2025 at 1:24 AM
“Meet me there, at the road where there are two diners across the street from each other, where the fields behind them lie open to the sky, begging for rain.”
@cherylpappas.bsky.social in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/i-dreamt-of-...
@cherylpappas.bsky.social in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/i-dreamt-of-...
“… You are a homesickness
buffered by fantasies of orchids, scotch
pines, daybreak. Blue
graves scattered over cities. People
I tried to love
but couldn’t. …”
@chelsdingman.bsky.social in @amsterdamreview.bsky.social www.amsterdamreview.org/we-have-know...
buffered by fantasies of orchids, scotch
pines, daybreak. Blue
graves scattered over cities. People
I tried to love
but couldn’t. …”
@chelsdingman.bsky.social in @amsterdamreview.bsky.social www.amsterdamreview.org/we-have-know...
We Have Known Each Other at Every Hour by Chelsea Dingman | Amsterdam Review
Read "We Have Known Each Other at Every Hour" by Chelsea Dingman
www.amsterdamreview.org
November 16, 2025 at 9:23 PM
“… You are a homesickness
buffered by fantasies of orchids, scotch
pines, daybreak. Blue
graves scattered over cities. People
I tried to love
but couldn’t. …”
@chelsdingman.bsky.social in @amsterdamreview.bsky.social www.amsterdamreview.org/we-have-know...
buffered by fantasies of orchids, scotch
pines, daybreak. Blue
graves scattered over cities. People
I tried to love
but couldn’t. …”
@chelsdingman.bsky.social in @amsterdamreview.bsky.social www.amsterdamreview.org/we-have-know...
“...and she smells like copper, like old pennies, eyes bloodshot, a bead of spit quivering on her upper lip, making a noise in the back of her throat like she’s purring and *shit* how is this happening to me…”
@mynachang.bsky.social @bloodhoneylit.bsky.social www.bloodhoneylit.com/fiction/toug...
@mynachang.bsky.social @bloodhoneylit.bsky.social www.bloodhoneylit.com/fiction/toug...
tough guys — Blood+Honey
by Myna Chang “She shoves my tie aside, taps a button mid-chest with the blade, tap tap tap . Who is this bitch? She’s grinning again, all teeth, and she smells like copper, like old pennies…”
www.bloodhoneylit.com
November 16, 2025 at 9:18 PM
“...and she smells like copper, like old pennies, eyes bloodshot, a bead of spit quivering on her upper lip, making a noise in the back of her throat like she’s purring and *shit* how is this happening to me…”
@mynachang.bsky.social @bloodhoneylit.bsky.social www.bloodhoneylit.com/fiction/toug...
@mynachang.bsky.social @bloodhoneylit.bsky.social www.bloodhoneylit.com/fiction/toug...
“I never used to be so easy, my abyss hidden under fake layers of self-confidence, self-delusion, fake tan fanta orange, camouflaged bright. Recently, the layers have begun to recede with the waxing of the moon…”
@lumchanmfa.bsky.social in Twisted Tongue Press twistedtonguepress.com/fiction/thre...
@lumchanmfa.bsky.social in Twisted Tongue Press twistedtonguepress.com/fiction/thre...
Three shots of tequila, clear, spicy, no lime, and I’m vomiting up the dark. – Twisted Tongue Press
twistedtonguepress.com
November 16, 2025 at 9:13 PM
“I never used to be so easy, my abyss hidden under fake layers of self-confidence, self-delusion, fake tan fanta orange, camouflaged bright. Recently, the layers have begun to recede with the waxing of the moon…”
@lumchanmfa.bsky.social in Twisted Tongue Press twistedtonguepress.com/fiction/thre...
@lumchanmfa.bsky.social in Twisted Tongue Press twistedtonguepress.com/fiction/thre...
“What if I forgot how small he was once? What if I believed him when he told me he was a monster?”
@lindybiller.bsky.social in @molotovlitzine.bsky.social themolotovcocktail.com/vol-16/flash...
@lindybiller.bsky.social in @molotovlitzine.bsky.social themolotovcocktail.com/vol-16/flash...
The Molotov Cocktail
Viper Tooth by Lindy Biller I step into my son’s bedroom and find his skin crumpled on the maroon carpet. For a second I can’t breathe. Lungs constricted, limbs tingling. He didn’t tell me. What ha…
themolotovcocktail.com
November 16, 2025 at 9:09 PM
“What if I forgot how small he was once? What if I believed him when he told me he was a monster?”
@lindybiller.bsky.social in @molotovlitzine.bsky.social themolotovcocktail.com/vol-16/flash...
@lindybiller.bsky.social in @molotovlitzine.bsky.social themolotovcocktail.com/vol-16/flash...
“He cocked his rifle, and the beagle howled.”
@jhhwriter.bsky.social in @mrbullbull.bsky.social mrbullbull.com/newbull/flas...
@jhhwriter.bsky.social in @mrbullbull.bsky.social mrbullbull.com/newbull/flas...
The End of Summer | MrBullBull
mrbullbull.com
November 16, 2025 at 9:03 PM
“He cocked his rifle, and the beagle howled.”
@jhhwriter.bsky.social in @mrbullbull.bsky.social mrbullbull.com/newbull/flas...
@jhhwriter.bsky.social in @mrbullbull.bsky.social mrbullbull.com/newbull/flas...
“He told me he’d auditioned aspiring mothers, and some appeared, but then they left. ‘Nobody wants a freak,’ he said, and I held him and caressed his hair, and he felt safe in my arms, I said, ‘You just need love’ …”
@happilander.bsky.social in @mrbullbull.bsky.social mrbullbull.com/newbull/flas...
@happilander.bsky.social in @mrbullbull.bsky.social mrbullbull.com/newbull/flas...
My Brad Pitt Boyfriend | MrBullBull
mrbullbull.com
November 16, 2025 at 8:59 PM
“He told me he’d auditioned aspiring mothers, and some appeared, but then they left. ‘Nobody wants a freak,’ he said, and I held him and caressed his hair, and he felt safe in my arms, I said, ‘You just need love’ …”
@happilander.bsky.social in @mrbullbull.bsky.social mrbullbull.com/newbull/flas...
@happilander.bsky.social in @mrbullbull.bsky.social mrbullbull.com/newbull/flas...
“…she looks down on me like she holds a truth I don’t know and her eye
pictures are better than mine, and when I give advice or orders, she throws a quick glance, but
She won’t listen.
*Did she ever?*”
@happilander.bsky.social @claudineliterary.bsky.social www.claudineliterary.net/milevaanasta...
pictures are better than mine, and when I give advice or orders, she throws a quick glance, but
She won’t listen.
*Did she ever?*”
@happilander.bsky.social @claudineliterary.bsky.social www.claudineliterary.net/milevaanasta...
Mileva Anastasiadou | Thinking Sickness
www.claudineliterary.net
November 16, 2025 at 8:55 PM
“…she looks down on me like she holds a truth I don’t know and her eye
pictures are better than mine, and when I give advice or orders, she throws a quick glance, but
She won’t listen.
*Did she ever?*”
@happilander.bsky.social @claudineliterary.bsky.social www.claudineliterary.net/milevaanasta...
pictures are better than mine, and when I give advice or orders, she throws a quick glance, but
She won’t listen.
*Did she ever?*”
@happilander.bsky.social @claudineliterary.bsky.social www.claudineliterary.net/milevaanasta...
“… You don’t know who your friends are. Scroll and scroll, looking for that
little swath of self, something familiar, a fingernail of who you really are. …”
@catkinspoet.bsky.social in Plume plumepoetry.com/poem-with-no...
little swath of self, something familiar, a fingernail of who you really are. …”
@catkinspoet.bsky.social in Plume plumepoetry.com/poem-with-no...
Poem with No Content - Plume
POEM WITH NO CONTENT No, not even under reconstruction, you’ve been deactivated. A breach of contract. You’ve been erased from the ethers, matter of fact, as a June bug in July. Hacked by an intru...
plumepoetry.com
November 16, 2025 at 8:50 PM
“… You don’t know who your friends are. Scroll and scroll, looking for that
little swath of self, something familiar, a fingernail of who you really are. …”
@catkinspoet.bsky.social in Plume plumepoetry.com/poem-with-no...
little swath of self, something familiar, a fingernail of who you really are. …”
@catkinspoet.bsky.social in Plume plumepoetry.com/poem-with-no...
“You and Kate are you-and-Kate with no interruption and that is how you love me.”
@pleomorphic2.bsky.social in @templeinacity.bsky.social templeinacity.com/flash-fictio...
@pleomorphic2.bsky.social in @templeinacity.bsky.social templeinacity.com/flash-fictio...
Temple in a city literary journal
You-and-Kate in a Field, Loving me flash fiction by writer Sumitra Singam. Published in Temple in a city literary journal.
templeinacity.com
November 16, 2025 at 8:45 PM
“You and Kate are you-and-Kate with no interruption and that is how you love me.”
@pleomorphic2.bsky.social in @templeinacity.bsky.social templeinacity.com/flash-fictio...
@pleomorphic2.bsky.social in @templeinacity.bsky.social templeinacity.com/flash-fictio...
“I am capable of nothing at all–the world is a confusing mess of sounds that I cannot separate out, itchy clothing that I am not allowed to take off, and everything about me–my skin, hair, name is wrong.”
@pleomorphic2.bsky.social in @tinymolecules.bsky.social www.tinymolecules.com/issues/twent...
@pleomorphic2.bsky.social in @tinymolecules.bsky.social www.tinymolecules.com/issues/twent...
twenty-five — Tiny Molecules
www.tinymolecules.com
November 16, 2025 at 8:40 PM
“I am capable of nothing at all–the world is a confusing mess of sounds that I cannot separate out, itchy clothing that I am not allowed to take off, and everything about me–my skin, hair, name is wrong.”
@pleomorphic2.bsky.social in @tinymolecules.bsky.social www.tinymolecules.com/issues/twent...
@pleomorphic2.bsky.social in @tinymolecules.bsky.social www.tinymolecules.com/issues/twent...
“You dig too deep. Always. That’s the problem. You care like a chump. If only you could take a nap. If only this life allowed detectives to stop detecting now and again.”
@woodardwriter.bsky.social in @tinymolecules.bsky.social www.tinymolecules.com/issues/twent...
@woodardwriter.bsky.social in @tinymolecules.bsky.social www.tinymolecules.com/issues/twent...
twenty-five — Tiny Molecules
www.tinymolecules.com
November 16, 2025 at 8:35 PM
“You dig too deep. Always. That’s the problem. You care like a chump. If only you could take a nap. If only this life allowed detectives to stop detecting now and again.”
@woodardwriter.bsky.social in @tinymolecules.bsky.social www.tinymolecules.com/issues/twent...
@woodardwriter.bsky.social in @tinymolecules.bsky.social www.tinymolecules.com/issues/twent...
“Wasn’t long before you said what you said, which later you’d say I shouldn’t hold against you because you hadn’t been yourself …”
Michelle Ross in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/Transmogrifi...
Michelle Ross in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/Transmogrifi...
Transmogrification - Gooseberry Pie Lit Magazine
Photo by Logan Voss on Unsplash by Michelle Ross The morning was pleasant, so we kept walking, forgetting how quickly conditions change. By the time we turned around, we’d run out of shade—no reprieve...
gooseberry-pie.com
November 16, 2025 at 8:22 PM
“Wasn’t long before you said what you said, which later you’d say I shouldn’t hold against you because you hadn’t been yourself …”
Michelle Ross in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/Transmogrifi...
Michelle Ross in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/Transmogrifi...
“… and I couldn’t help but wonder if anything would ever be normal again or if this was my life now. Or if I was looking at this all wrong and it was actually …”
Paint Fumes + 1 by @jekwriter.bsky.social in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/paint-fumes/
Paint Fumes + 1 by @jekwriter.bsky.social in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/paint-fumes/
Paint Fumes - Gooseberry Pie Lit Magazine
Photo by Taelynn Christopher on Unsplash by Jessica Klimesh On the morning of my mother’s funeral, I woke up early to prep the house for painting, spreading out drop cloths, taping edges, and priming ...
gooseberry-pie.com
November 16, 2025 at 8:18 PM
“… and I couldn’t help but wonder if anything would ever be normal again or if this was my life now. Or if I was looking at this all wrong and it was actually …”
Paint Fumes + 1 by @jekwriter.bsky.social in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/paint-fumes/
Paint Fumes + 1 by @jekwriter.bsky.social in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/paint-fumes/
“The heart roosts where it can.”
Players + 2 by @claudiamonpere.bsky.social in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/player/
Players + 2 by @claudiamonpere.bsky.social in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/player/
Player - Gooseberry Pie Lit Magazine
Photo by Paul Arky on Unsplash by Claudia Monpere A piano tilts on the dirt beside a freeway entrance like an unbalanced stilt walker: chipped keys, case body cracked, chunks of wood missing, and stil...
gooseberry-pie.com
November 16, 2025 at 8:13 PM
“The heart roosts where it can.”
Players + 2 by @claudiamonpere.bsky.social in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/player/
Players + 2 by @claudiamonpere.bsky.social in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/player/
“Freddy’s partially deflated blue balloon, drifting from behind the spare bedroom door when Grammy Ruth went in to vacuum, to drown out Grampa Earl’s voice ranting in the kitchen …”
@tcboudreau.bsky.social in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/keepsakes/
@tcboudreau.bsky.social in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/keepsakes/
Keepsakes - Gooseberry Pie Lit Magazine
Photo by Lena Polishko on Unsplash by Timothy Boudreau Freddy’s green lizard race car with a pink tongue painted on the hood, pulled from under the couch when Grammy Ruth scrambled to find her pearl e...
gooseberry-pie.com
November 16, 2025 at 8:08 PM
“Freddy’s partially deflated blue balloon, drifting from behind the spare bedroom door when Grammy Ruth went in to vacuum, to drown out Grampa Earl’s voice ranting in the kitchen …”
@tcboudreau.bsky.social in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/keepsakes/
@tcboudreau.bsky.social in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/keepsakes/
“And I was determined to not say a word about it to moshpit Melody or her third husband, Mitch. Not how they bathed every houseguest in their unctuousness, not how roses were the gift of the divine …”
@rgvaughan.bsky.social in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/the-roses-we...
@rgvaughan.bsky.social in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/the-roses-we...
The Roses Were Really Something - Gooseberry Pie Lit Magazine
Photo by Simon HUMLER on Unsplash by Robert Vaughan I hadn’t noticed them when we arrived, too caught up in running into Melody who’d fucked half of her co-workers and the entire neighboring Waukesha ...
gooseberry-pie.com
November 16, 2025 at 8:05 PM
“And I was determined to not say a word about it to moshpit Melody or her third husband, Mitch. Not how they bathed every houseguest in their unctuousness, not how roses were the gift of the divine …”
@rgvaughan.bsky.social in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/the-roses-we...
@rgvaughan.bsky.social in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/the-roses-we...
“… because the fact was I wanted none of this to be real—me in my black dress and lace spider-web tights that, it had occurred to me walking to Grace Cathedral, my stepmother would look at askance and …”
@kimmagowan.bsky.social in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/instead-of-g...
@kimmagowan.bsky.social in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/instead-of-g...
Instead of Going to My Father's Funeral - Gooseberry Pie Lit Magazine
Photo by boris misevic on Unsplash by Kim Magowan I went to a bar called (I kid you not) The Last Chance Saloon, and ordered a double. “A double what?” said the bartender, wearily, and so I said “A do...
gooseberry-pie.com
November 16, 2025 at 8:02 PM
“… because the fact was I wanted none of this to be real—me in my black dress and lace spider-web tights that, it had occurred to me walking to Grace Cathedral, my stepmother would look at askance and …”
@kimmagowan.bsky.social in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/instead-of-g...
@kimmagowan.bsky.social in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/instead-of-g...
“… I just start shouting part of the dream, what’s left of it, THERE’S A BUS IN A CITY, because for fuck’s sake, it’s almost gone, but another husband honks the horn twice, short, angry blasts, and …”
@emilyrinkema.bsky.social in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/or-was-it-a-...
@emilyrinkema.bsky.social in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/or-was-it-a-...
Or Was It a Baby? - Gooseberry Pie Lit Magazine
Photo by Diane Picchiottino on Unsplash by Emily Rinkema It’s 5:00 a.m. and I ask my husband if he wants to hear my dream, but he pulls the quilt over his shoulders. I ask my other husband, but he jus...
gooseberry-pie.com
November 16, 2025 at 7:59 PM
“… I just start shouting part of the dream, what’s left of it, THERE’S A BUS IN A CITY, because for fuck’s sake, it’s almost gone, but another husband honks the horn twice, short, angry blasts, and …”
@emilyrinkema.bsky.social in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/or-was-it-a-...
@emilyrinkema.bsky.social in @gooseberrypielit.bsky.social gooseberry-pie.com/or-was-it-a-...