I'm excited to see you. I look forward to the time we bump into each other as we cross campus in opposite directions. We will say "Hi.” and, “How are you?" We will part. We will pause, and fondly recognize, that for a moment, we forgot where we were headed.

Nobody likes her, but in this one, blurry photo she looks trendy and modest. She looks like she wants to be a fashion designer one day, and has lots of fun at parties. She looks as though one day she'll find this blurry photo and remember how great college was.

I don't understand 3.  I have 1 under my belt, selfish, but easy, and I'm great at 2.  Sometimes.  3 gives me trouble.  I just can't wrap my head around 3.  A lot of my friends 'get' 3, but I don't, and it makes me feel dumb.  4?  Forget it.

"No one understands me", Wolfman said to Little Boy.  "What about Frankie?” Little Boy responded, “You said he understood you, and then you ate him."  "I meant no one alive." Wolfman whined.  “Oh,” said Little Boy, "Are you gonna eat me too?"  "Yes." said Wolfman.  "Well fuck." said Little Boy.

Delores had left me.  She had just up and left me without so much as saying a “goodbye”, or even explaining why she was leaving.  So here I was in an empty house in an even lonelier bathroom smelling the vanilla scented candle she left behind and taking a shit.

Nigel was a very popular socialite. “Fimda!” Nigel said one night, at a particularly well-attended social event. “Fimda?” some nearby socialite friends gasped. “Fimda,” Nigel replied, now shifting a little uncomfortably in his place, worried he had made some horrible mistake. Nigel is no longer a very popular socialite.

Callum embraced Alice, and at once he knew something was wrong. There was a knife in his fucking chest and after a moment’s contemplation Callum understood he was going to die. It felt at once frightening and comforting, like a Ferris wheel. Is my refrigerator running? I didn’t say banana.