My Girl, Not Linda – S. K. Nicholas


The clock’s stopped ticking. I’m not sure why. It worried me at first, but then I put it to the back of my mind because the promise of flesh reared its ugly head. There are bruises on her legs, but she looks as pretty as a peach, although it has to be noted she’s running on an empty stomach from not eating for fear of putting on weight. She hasn’t eaten in days, and although she says she’s not hungry, I can hear her belly rumbling. I’m sat perched on the edge of the bed smoking a cigarette while she’s curled up beside me watching The Exorcist. A teenage Linda Blair’s fucking herself with a crucifix. She tells me an ex-boyfriend once slid a sheathed knife into her pussy. My girl, not Linda. I tell her that sex is a form of time travel; it takes us to the…

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2 replies »

  1. I love the lyrical immediacy. That’s just how I read it. But my favorite part was “sex is a form of time travel” all shades of cool take their toll in this one.

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