Jeff Lindsay

I poked at the white paper bag. There was nothing left inside. Just like me: a clean crisp outside and nothing at all on the inside.

Another beautiful Miami day. Mutilated corpses with a chance of afternoon showers. I got dressed and went to work.

I had killed our careful relationship by driving my tongue through its heart and pushing it off a cliff.

Every major city has a section like this one. If a piebald dwarf with advanced leprosy wants to have sex with a kangaroo and a teenage choir, he'll find his way here and get a room. When he's done he might take the whole gang next door for a cup of Cuban coffee and a medianioche sandwich. Nobody would care, as long as he tipped.

And here I always thought morality was useless

Incompetence is rewarded more often than not.

Did I say imaginary? Well yes. Human men are not like that.

I am unlovable...I have tried to involve myself in other people, in relationships, and even - in my sillier moments - in love. But it doesn't work. Something in me is broken or missing and sooner or later the other person catches me Acting or one of Those Nights comes along.