As he undid his belt, his erection snuck over the top of his white underwear. Zabeth saw his khaki-colored life fade away, the man of rules breaking the rules. A shopping mall bathroom. She looked at his gold wedding ring, wondering if he was there with his family, a teenage daughter. He cupped her buttocks, fingers searching. She noticed a tiny scar by his left eye, a story she’d never hear. He pressed his chin down, appearing to be in pain. “I should leave first,” he said. She adjusted her panties, knowing better than to look in the bathroom mirror.
GRANT FAULKNER is the executive director of National Novel Writing Month and the co-founder of 100 Word Story. His stories and essays have appeared in The Southwest Review, The New York Times, Poets & Writers, PANK, Gargoyle, eclectica, Puerto del Sol, the Cortland Review, and Word Riot, among others. His stories are also forthcoming in our spring print issue. He's currently in the process of finishing a collection of one hundred 100-word stories, Fissures.
Latest posts by Grant Faulkner (see all)
- The Toad - April 24, 2014
- Bodies at Risk in Motion - March 19, 2014
