There’s a certain kind of man who can smell you a mile away. He’s broken and you smell like glue, like bail money and an empty bed. Like a medicine cabinet and an unlocked door; an open mouth, a full set of teeth, an easy laugh. Warm skin that hasn’t been touched in a long…

No Tell Motel

You only felt pain radiating through your bones, your fingers tight on the steering wheel, your other hand pressing down against your thigh to calm the ache.