from I Said No: The long road looked like an oversized wide sidewalk. She veered onto it and she was here. She peered through the windshield and saw his truck near the road. She tucked her long sleeved shirt into her shorts. Not that her apparel much mattered, in a minute or two it would be off. He would probably scoff at the weight she had gained, but that was of no consequence, his opinion meant nothing. She dabbed her lips with lipstick and glimpsed at herself in the window of the driver’s side seat. She shut it, stepping onto a stone sidewalk, seeing his truck again. Very large and with so many shiny rims and it shone. On the phone, he had guided her to his home. He told her the exit she would have to take. She was fifteen minutes late, but this was fine, she didn’t like being on time. Besides, when he had given her directions, he said nothing about the time.
from A Body: Olivia went to the tavern of dance and drink for a union, not the legal but evening’s end kind. If she was going to meet this man, he would have to approach her first. Perched on a chair, her perfect legs dangled and barely touched the floor. Minutes had passed now, and no one had approached her - not to talk or otherwise. She drank two shots of vodka with no chaser. Into her phone to a friend: “Yes, god, I’m about to leave.” Prone when displeased or pleased to address anyone as a deity, Olivia hung up and slipped her phone into her coat. As she did so, someone’s gaze was upon her – impenetrable. An acute awareness followed – very sharp. Often mistaken for vanity or neurosis, the first dose of that dense feeling was a sixth sense that, though all possessed, Olivia had whetted out of leisure and need.
from Trapped: Susan did not have an appointment. It was a regular day and she was on her way to it. Driving in her steel gray Volvo, one hand on the wheel, the other on her stomach, her bulging stomach, her stomach about to burst, her stomach being kicked stepped on played around in. Her family lived out of state her boyfriend in town trying a man for larceny she had called him why the fuck had she called him well he was the father his voicemail so she had called another number but no, his secretary – “He can’t come to the phone, may I take - ” No, I’m about to explode, Susan had hung up had called her best girlfriend but her best girlfriend did not answer so she called another girlfriend. This girlfriend lived thirty five minutes away and “I’m right on my way stay there I’m coming.” She had waited fifteen and then grabbed her keys and decided to leave, to drive herself. Now, driving herself driving herself she drove slow kept her eyes focused on the road she didn’t know how usual it was – this, her baby, coming prematurely. Three weeks early, nearly, but, coming. Coming, right, now. Ow, she held her stomach took her eyes off the road holding herself tighter as though that would make this pain this pain this pain go away. A car beeped behind her, and she jerked her head up in between lanes she was in between lanes. A woman behind her gave her the middle finger and she herself returned the gesture. No hands on the wheel now, one hand on the wheel now, one hand on her stomach, Susan turned left onto Locust Street and then a sharp right onto Sunny Drive. Why didn’t they name it Hospital Drive for it was indeed the street that led to Geisinger Hospital. Why did that matter now though? Why did she think of such things? Why did such things bother her?
from "A Straightforward Guy":
Lynette only used her mirror after haircuts and to apply lip gloss and brush her teeth. Her looks weren’t responsible for the avoidance. Her wish to wait to seriously date a man until she was in her mid to late twenties was. Another wish was that, more than her looks, this man would be interested in who she was as a person. Whoever that was: she presently changed monthly, sometimes weekly. For instance, last month she wanted to be a prosecutor, and this month a schoolteacher. Last week she had brown eyes, and this week blue (new contacts.) Yesterday her hair was long and blonde, and today short and brown. The salon she had gone to today confirmed her suspicion that other girls her age experienced and accepted a similar kaleidoscopic existence. Here, she ran into two: one from where she worked and the other from the gym/spa she belonged to. While the one had her hair cut short, the other had it dyed black. Her own hair length and color didn’t matter once she got home and saw the ad in The Turtle Times. In capital letters that were italic and bold: come help us celebrate our anniversary, one year. The ad also gave the bar’s name, phone number, and address. Though the name was unfamiliar, she didn’t call, she knew the location. Before she left her apartment, she looked into her mirror and said tonight you will leave the bar the same way you came – alone.