jade and steve at g.e. — the sleep overs

i forgot who is buried here. i wrote “rain forest jim” a long time ago. maybe steve remembers.

. . . “you thirsty?” she asked.

“thursday, nope. nope. wednesday.” he giggled. “hump day.”

“yes, baby, hump day. so,” her voice low and silky, “tell me about the desert.”

“bury ’em in the desert.”

barium in the desert?

“bury ’em in the desert,” he repeated, the lines on his forehead furrowing.

“bury who in the desert?”

. . .

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Ann James

Ann James

Her writing muse lurks in the volcanic hills amidst mustangs, marmots and jackalopes. While hiking with her dogs, Ann stumbles upon stories of dark humor.