Your brother’s bones, suspended in mineral fluids, turn as smoothly and shine as brightly as the oil-coated joints of the mechanism they guide. When you touch the heavy plastic that separates you from his body, it is cold. The iron plate that serves to cover what is left of his face turns towards the tapping, and nausea wells deep in your throat.

BARISTAR – 5:09 – Polarity just magnetized my train. On a Tuesday night. LUNASAM – 5:10 – @BariStar: You’re lying, no one goes after the green line. BARISTAR – 5:11- No, I’m not lying!! I’d post a pic but she’s riding on the roof.

Judy says, “It’s snowing.” I look out the window. The sky is the same dirty grey as the snow left from last week’s storm. I stand up to look closer, to find a backdrop against which I might see what she sees.

Some people will do almost anything to wipe out a debt. You, Jessica, are no exception. When the casino men came to your dingy apartment to collect, what did they threaten you with? A bat to break your legs?

You are fifteen when you get the brochure. See DANGEROUS EARTH-POSSIBLES! Become a Hero! The ad blinked at you online, between the x-ray glasses and the grainy picture of how to lose fourteen pounds and get real wings

You love someone. A boyfriend, who hogs the covers and pisses with the bathroom door open. Your mother. Your little brother—he never calls, communicating instead via selfies verging on the ridiculous and too-brief texts.