"Leon was absolutely forbidden from entering the kitchen, making his perch on the countertop and the thud of his dangling heels kicking back against the drawers all the more satisfying." Fiction.
"He is five years old again. He has only ever been five. The sun is bearing down upon his Brooklyn block. You could fry a knish on the pavement." Fiction.
“‘You ever see someone choke on one of those?' Vito asked the vendor, pointing to a hot dog. From the other side of the metallic counter, the vendor’s eyes slowly shifted up from his phone." Fiction.
Why do we “like” things? Why do we “heart” things? Does love mean swiping right? Does it mean holding the door for someone who has their hands full?
Maybe it's all of those things. Maybe we can’t define it.
"Daniel arrived outside of the house in a blue button-up and a pair of gray pants that his mother had picked out for him at Brooks Brothers. He knew how this would go." Fiction.