A Love Letter To Cafés

It’s the oddest thing: while some have rustic aesthetics that cause them to feel nostalgic and comforted, I’ve always had a place in my heart for a little rundown café. You know the ones, right? Linoleum floors? Vinyl seating? A bunch of very tired looking women running around filling coffee cups and taking orders with steno pads? Those ones.

I love those. Continue reading

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I Fucking Love Cooking

So, when writing became my job, I had to ask: “then what’s my hobby?” Well, though I am a big fan of Hearthstone and I obviously read a ton and watch many shows—when I have time to do so—if I had to pick something I consider a hobby, it would be cooking.

To not die of hunger, I must cook food anyway—or eat out at restaurants all the time, but, if that were only the case, I would not make it as complex as I do. If I was only doing it for the sake of not being a withered husk of hunger, I would not put the level of thought and effort into the foods I make. Continue reading

Flash Fiction: Chips And Dip

Eric could not understand why no one had considered dipping potato chips in ketchup. They were essentially French fries, so there was not much a difference in flavor, not much of an issue—so why didn’t more people do it?

“What, do you love her?” Fae demanded, spreading out her arms. “Do you want to fuck her, huh? Have her over and let her sleep in my spot?” Continue reading

Flash Fiction: The Tasteless Meal

Jess examined the bowl of white something or other and looked up at her friend.

“So, what do you think of it?” Heather asked.

“I mean…” Jess said and then bit her lower lip. “It is by far the most unique piece of food I have ever had.” Continue reading