New joint indeed. And most thankful we are to the Jason Pettus and CCLaP for running with our newest New York piece in the debut issue of the CCLaP Journal. Excerpt? Word.
"There is no Claire. It’s true that she doesn’t always come home. It’s also true that I stopped worrying about that a while ago. Still this is different. There’s a storm coming and what if she can’t get home, but wants to? Then what?
“Storm’s coming,” Claire said.
“So,” I said.
“So, they say it will be the Storm of the Century,” she said.
“And,” I said, knowing she wanted to leave and would find any excuse she could to do so.
“We may need stuff, food, or cigarettes, alcohol,” she said.
“We have tequila,” I said.
“It’s not enough,” she said.
And I suppose that’s the rub. Nothing is enough anymore, not me certainly.
“Go ahead,” I said, grabbing her shoulders and staring into her dead eyes.
“What?” she said.
“Everything is fucked,” I said.
“That’s the storm talking,” she said, “end of the world shit. Let it go.”
So I do. I let it go, and then I let her go. But she never quite came back."