BROKEN THINGS appears in Issue #3 of Taint, Taint Taint
You leave Khalil because he hates your body. Khalil hates your body because it can’t hold on to babies. He’s too nice a guy to say it outright, but every night he leaves a gulf between his body and your own, in the same bed that for three years was the site of your joint orgasms. So, you make the decision for both of you and announce that you’ve accepted the job in Poughkeepsie at Lisle College.
He grabs the edge of the counter with one hand and literally leans in to you, eyes squinty. You sit at the Formica counter, sorting files, deciding which to pack, which to toss, keeping your hands busy and your eyes—mostly— away from his face. His nose flares. Ropy dreadlocs threaten to drown his face, something he calls his Jesus look. On any other day, the unwieldy hair that springs from his scalp endears him to you. Today, it only adds to the pall of the conversation. The death of your relationship—like your two babies—is inevitable.
Read the rest of the story here: BROKEN THINGS