NICOLETTA’S CAKE BOUTIQUE 2 Comments

        Iron Man and Captain America were standing outside of Nicoletta’s Cake Boutique. And they had a gun pointed at me.   I’ve never seen a gun shop in Wellington, so I wondered if the masked men intended to squirt me with water as a joke.  Since my claim to fame was making choripanes, instead of stopping bullets with my bare hands, I didn’t take the risk of finding out. Apparently, they were assholes instead of clowns.  I wasn’t laughing either when they took my bag, my crow bar, my half-eaten cream cheese bagel… everything, goddammit!  Even the pack of Carefree sanitary pads that I found that morning.  Why the fuck would they need those?  Far as I know, men didn’t get monthly periods. Good thing they didn’t bother to check my pockets, because I would [Read More]


SPAM FRIED RICE 2 Comments

        The sun was out, threatening to burn my corneas through the window.  It would’ve been a beautiful day if not for the stench of rotten meat that invaded the room.  So I sprayed the kitchen with the can of air freshener I found in one of the cupboards.  The space around me smelled like rotten meat, with a touch of Ocean Mist. I was looking to stockpile more instant coffee, my feet bringing me to a two-story residence in Maupuia.  It was roughly 45 minutes walking distance from my hideout in Miramar.  30 if you run.   My quest for caffeine made me run.   Thud.  Upstairs.  My ninja senses were on edge, tingling in anticipation.  Fight or flight.   I went to investigate.  I could feel the creaking of the stairs in my teeth.  Bedroom [Read More]


BONGUSTO ARTISANAL PASTA

          Jake Slater was standing outside my house.  In his boxers.  Shirtless.   Six-pack abs and toned biceps.  So freaking hot. Missing half of his face.  Okay, not so hot.   The one time my high school crush dropped by for a visit, and he’s a walking cadaver.   My life is a romantic wasteland.   That morning was a scheduled supply run with Finn, and I didn’t want to be late.  I made my way to the front door, and quietly descended down the steps towards the street.  The cable car is too loud and slow so I leave it parked up top, by the house. At the foot of the stairs, I stayed behind the barb wired concrete fence to assess the threat level.  What use to be Jake was looking at me [Read More]


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