Daisy Danger » More literary

The only thing I knew about Effingham, Illinois, is that my friend got laid there years ago. He would never give details, other than to say he put the “F” in Effingham, then he’d smile slig...

https://daisydanger.com/2013/07/11/travel-tale/

Every so often, Tony and I will drive all night. We’ll drop someone off at their house and keep going. We’ll be hanging out at a party, we’ll look at each other and get up and leave. And th...

https://daisydanger.com/2013/06/10/we-drive/

We’re in a museum, and we’ve wandered into the children’s wing. Kids are shrieking happily, making giant soap bubbles and pressing big red buttons that light up giant displays of frogs or d...

https://daisydanger.com/2013/04/02/let-me-sketch-you/

the kind that echoes around in your brain forever. A moment of what-if’s and should-have-beens. I’ll give the ending away right now: We won’t kiss or caress, we certainly won’t have sex, ...

https://daisydanger.com/2012/09/14/this-is-one-of-those-paramount-moments/

“He’s got a job and a car,” Tony whispers in my ear as he makes introductions. I just turned twenty-five and I’m in a panic. Everyone else my age is getting married, people are talking be...

https://daisydanger.com/2012/07/06/dean/

My heart stops, I’m plunged into memories. There you are, dressed for the prom, your arm around her. I’ve not seen a single photo of you in more than twenty years. Every memento I had of you,...

https://daisydanger.com/2012/04/04/i-follow/

Blood lust boils to the surface, emerges as you pin my shoulders to the bed. All cruel things, all dark intents are given fresh life in your eyes. Channeled down from your brain to your hands to ...

https://daisydanger.com/2012/03/23/your-ferocity/

Eric’s rich, at least by our standards. He lived in Vegas and worked as a mortgage loan-something-or-other. Whatever he did, it’s far beyond our comprehension. No one really knows why Eric mo...

https://daisydanger.com/2011/12/07/its-the-weekend/

It fills the room, threatens to break windows and smash furniture. I’ve masturbated the entire day, it’s not enough. I make phone calls. “Fuck me,” I plead. “Can’t,” a voice whispe...

https://daisydanger.com/2011/11/08/the-emptiness/

More accurately, he came to visit one day and never left. I’ve just never gotten around to taking him home, and he’s never asked me to. Blue is my companion in loneliness, an island neither...

https://daisydanger.com/2011/06/15/blue-moved-in/