The Bracelet

brace

 

It’s hard to always sparkle. The constant gleaming reflection gets old. Who are those people who stare at me with the greedy eyes? As if stares were rich and darkness was poverty, I pretend I’m worth more than their pockets.

A man came up to me last week, trying to put me in a box. I would make his wife so happy. She would gasp, lovingly gazing into his eyes, and melt like the gold I am not.

“Only $6.00,” said the girl with platinum highlights. “Your lucky day!”

The men always pause, as if genuinely deciding, before moving on to another glass case. Another section of the store. Another store all together.

 

But I always sparkle for the girls. They point, specifically to my beauty, and slide me against their wrist. Hand in hand we decide in unison all the places we’ll dazzle together.

“Only $6.00,” the girl behind the counter doesn’t have to tell them they’re lucky. They pay with their last crumpled bill.

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The Dress

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Soft colors of a thin fabric always hide first.

Do they bleed through to the back? Or do they stick stuck to the middle?

Inked on the inside of an empty dress, printed patterns collide.

They struggle against the wrinkles. They relax against the formed.

Curled into coarseness, they gently fold backward.

 

 

A Woman

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Rules For Using A Woman

Before 40 years of age:

  • Always refer to a woman as ‘sweetheart’, ‘dear’, or ‘Miss’. Even if you don’t know her. This will make her feel delicate and soft spoken. If she tries to tell you otherwise, call her something else.
  • Talk about her legs/weight/appearance even when she can hear you. She will most likely think this is a compliment since a man is giving her attention.
  • Tell her she is beautiful, but do not compliment any other aspect of herself.
  • Allow her to work in the same positions men fill, but don’t bother to pay equally. She will be grateful enough for the experience.
  • If a woman does not want to have children with you, remind her that it is the most important thing she can ever do in her lifetime.
  • When seeing an attractive woman in the workplace, on the street, at a party, or virtually anywhere you happen to be, don’t hesitate to grab her by the pussy.

After 40 years of age:

  • Expired

Donald Trump Once OK’d Howard Stern Calling Daughter Ivanka a ‘Piece of Ass’

The Microwave

microwave

Name: Mike

Birthday: April 1946

Occupation: Making you hot

Description:
While not always a self starter, I’m always a self server.

I don’t mind getting down and dirty in some college apartments, but I prefer to have my own space.

Looking for:
Something easy, fast, not too messy.
Idea of a perfect date:

I like to hang out at home. Just about anything can turn me on, so bring on the late nights.

3 things I can’t live without:
1.) Power
2.) Dim lighting
3.) Bagel bites

Do you like pets?
I prefer Furby’s.

Favorite song:

Microwave Boogie by Skip Jackson

Personal Quote:

If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the microwave.

 

http://azcapitoltimes.com/news/2016/04/05/can-you-really-open-a-ballot-envelope-using-a-microwave/

Flash

Hi everyone,

I recently published a piece with Cleaver Magazine so I thought I’d share here. If you’d like to leave a comment, please do so on Cleaver’s site linked at the bottom of this page.

MOUSE MEAT
by Rebecca Lee

“Let’s go downtown.” It’s the chant I hear every weekend. Downtown is where the lights are. It’s where the girls go. The makeup, the short skirts, the pot smokers, and the boomboxes. They’re all there.

“Let’s go downtown.” The teenage guy I have a crush on, Matt, is asking his friends if they’re going. His voice is slow, low, and slick like rain. They sit at the back of the bus and blast Sublime on a battery-powered radio.  I’m twelve. He’s seventeen. It could happen if I wear the right clothes.

“Let’s go downtown,” I say to my neighbor, Laura, later that night. Laura’s four years older and has a license. She can borrow her stepdad’s car. She smokes cigarettes and listens to En Vogue. It’s hot out, and it’s close to summer. We’re getting older. I can feel it.

I grab the black pleather halter top with red lace stitching. Short skorts in spring tease the boys, but make me comfortable. I lace up my boots. Knee high and red leather. Just like the kind I see on MTV.

We go downtown several hours later. I sneak out of my house, and she sneaks out of hers. The suburbs are unnaturally dark with no streetlights or store fronts. The field of tall grass by our houses shivers from a dull wind. It must be coming from downtown. That’s where everything happens.

“Look.”  We get out of the car and instantly see Matt’s friend from the back of the bus. Hacky Sack Boy. He’s the guy that she likes. He’s sitting on the ground playing guitar and singing lyrics he wrote himself. “He’s so creative,” she says. He looks just like Matt. If we each got married to one of them, we could wear matching gowns.

“Go talk to him,” I say.

The clickable comb comes out. She teases her hair up and then mashes her finger into a miniature lip balm container. Cucumber watermelon.

“I’ll be right back,” she says.

Downtown bars with neon lights twinkle across the street. Girls wearing all black with torn tights stand in groups together. A man with long blond hair is selling CDs at a stand across the way. Maybe he has the En Vogue CD Laura plays for us in her stepdad’s beat up Honda Civic. Maybe she’ll think I’m cool for buying it.

“Hi,” I wave to CD Guy. He has wrinkles around his mouth. If he speaks, I bet he will sound gravelly.  When he stares at me, he looks for a beat too long. My pleather halter top.  Bare shoulders in the dark.

“Hey,” his smile stretches. His voice is higher pitched and dented at the end as if lilting slightly upward. Even though he’s older, he has a boyish quality about him. “Those boots are pretty sexy.”

He thinks I’m older. He thinks I’m older. He thinks I’m older. I flash him a smile, the same one Laura wears except with braces. “Thanks,” I say, but I can’t look him in the eye.

“You look like a cool girl. What kind of music do you like?” He is all eye crinkles. Gazing down my shirt. Flat chested. I wish I had stuffed.

“You have En Vogue?” I try to hide the squeak in my voice. The volume gets caught somewhere in the top of my throat until words skitter at a faster pace than I’d like. It’s the thing that always gives me away. When I tried talking to Matt, my voice was so quiet and high pitched he called me a mouse. “Mouse meat,” he said. I thought of road kill.

“Of course. They’re my favorite.” His smile is almost feminine behind his long hair. He brushes it behind his ear. I see flashes of gray tucked to the side. A bald spot is poking out on top. “It’s in my van, a few streets down.”

I nod. That’s that. Moving on.

“Why don’t you come with me, and I’ll just give it to you. A gift.” Maybe that wasn’t it. Maybe we weren’t moving on.

He likes me. He’s old, but he likes me. I stare back at Laura, but she’s talking to Hacky Sack Boy.

“Let’s go to the van.” He is already walking. His hand is outstretched. I’ve never held a guy’s hand before.

The bar lights are flickering. It’s late. Past eleven. I can smell something sour on CD Guy’s breath. I take his hand, and instantly it feels too soft. As if he could dissolve if I touch him hard enough. He smiles and the eye crinkles come back.

“Hey!” I hear a girl’s voice in the background. It’s Laura! She’s running full speed down the street and coming straight for me. “I have to talk to you.” She grabs my arm and whispers loudly into my ear. “Hacky Sack has a girlfriend.”

Laura’s about to cry. Her eyes are glass. I let go of CD Guy’s hand, and his mouth becomes like two tightrope lines strung together at the corners. If Laura can’t be with Hacky Sack Boy, I don’t want to be with anyone either.

“I have to go,” I say to the man. His face closes like a window. He is shut down.

“Do you want to stay downtown?” Laura is now crying, but I can tell she doesn’t want to ruin our adventure. The tears fall freely. Her face is like a peach without the fuzz, and I wonder if she’ll stay soft forever. I look out at the bars and notice a couple in their twenties. She is tilting her head back, exposing her throat. Her voice slides out like butter. Someday that will be me.

“Let’s go home.”

 

MOUSE MEAT by Rebecca Lee

Braces

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Their laughter once darted in and out of spaces just big enough to get syllables stuck. Words like ‘pre-teen’ and ‘puberty’ barely made it through. Glitter framed snap shots of pig tails and thick gums were slowly surrendered to a box under the bed. Their smiles were embarrassing secrets. Mouths that moved over smooth lined sentences clashed with childhood lisps. They were suddenly clamped shut, shuffled into a straight line. Their laughter is no longer the same.

http://www.wsj.com/articles/why-more-adults-are-getting-braces-1444066342

Online Dating

computerlove

Name: Server

Interested in: User

About Me: I grew up all over the world. My connections to people are strong, but distanced. I am extremely loyal, outgoing, and trustworthy. I live for the energy of others.

My Ideal Date: Someone who knows what they want. I don’t want to play games just to figure you out. I’m a straight forward, optimistic, go getter. If you need me, I need you. Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there.

Favorite Song: I would die 4 U by Prince

Favorite Book: The Missing Link by Brandon Meyers

Favorite Movie: Turn Me On, Damn it!

Three Things I Can’t Live Without:

  • Direction

  • A strong and loving connection

  • You

If you’re interested in messaging me, know that I will always get back to you. My response time is immediate. You are my biggest priority.

http://money.cnn.com/2015/10/08/technology/hacker-revenge-prosecutors/