Shani Chernin

I met a man for coffee. He made some joke about how indecisive women are. Who knew an egg with a yolk, was like a punchline to a joke, and one could never uncrack it? I stared at him with a milk blank expression. Why so bitter? He asks, Must be the coffee, I answer. We take turns wondering rude things about each other. It’s somehow the most polite thing we had accomplished. Why can’t she be less uptight? Why is everything that comes out of his mouth a slight? Why is she never satisfied? Why...

It floats lazily up above, a puffy white entity looming over its lowly, landwalking subjects. It rushes through our veins, fast and...