Christmas presents always took a back seat to certain Christmas foods when I was growing up. My parents gave each child only two presents. When we were young, they were a toy (usually something ... [+]
How I Learned to Stay Alive
This story contains adult themes and is not appropriate for young or sensitive readers.I met Sarkas at a club called Pose. Rolling on molly, eager to swallow the world, dancing with our hips and mouths pressed together before I even knew his name. Light ricocheted off sweat-slick skin and sticky concrete. I felt driven to pieces by this light, my skin turning to beads of glass like the car window I smashed back in North Carolina before I escaped to this small, cold country, halfway around the world.A go-go dancer walked by, naked except for a harness holding a bowl of lollipops and condoms, hi