Brad Rose
Lucky, I Guess
I don’t know why you can smell rain and lightning coming on. Same as I don’t know why I married Crystal. Twice. Billy-Idol blonde, S curves smooth as hourglass sand, salt and pepper bob, she hisses venom whenever another woman smiles at me. Last night, as I made a mental list of things to avoid buying at the Dollar Store, the moths twitched against the porch’s bare bulb. In the blue-white light, she stubbed out her cigarette, turned to me, and like a bored executioner, said, I don’t know about you, Lucky, but I can’t sleep in all this heat.
About the writer:
Brad Rose was born and raised in Los Angeles and lives in Boston. He is the author of three collections of poetry and flash fiction, Pink X-Ray (Big Table Publishing, 2015), de/tonations(Nixes Mate Press, 2020), and Momentary Turbulence (Cervena Barva Press, 2020). His fourth collection, WordinEdgeWise, is forthcoming in 2021 from Cervena Barva Press.
Image: In Mezzo alla Tempesta by Donaera C.S. Oil on canvas. No size specified. 2013. By free license.
