I take another sip of my glass of shitty $4.49 Riesling as another carpenter ant crawls up my unshaved shin. Is this what I’ve become? I think to myself. I sip once more, knowing fully well I will have heartburn in 20 minutes. Damn this wine is shitty.

Last night was supposed to be fun. I was supposed to be fun. Instead, I found myself covering my crotch when he went for the tie on my shorts. I wouldn’t do it. I couldn’t do it. The last time I did it, bad things happened to me. Very bad things.

His mouth felt the same as all of their mouths: taut and wet. It was as if when I kissed him, I was kissing all of them. Every guy I had ever been with. Which, for your information, wasn’t actually that many. But they still remained, despite that.

My phone dinged and vibrated. “You have a new message from Carl.” I let out a sigh and force-touched the screen to open the message. I skimmed the speech bubble’s contents and replied with the usual “It’s going. You?” I wasn’t that original.

Another sip. I didn’t want to waste the nice bottle of Riesling from the local winery. That was too good. Too good for me. Here comes the heartburn, I shutter as acid from my stomach filters into my throat.

Knock, knock. My roommate was at the door. I put the glass of wine under my desk and walked towards the door.

–Elizabeth Lacey

I’m Back

Sorry I haven’t written in a while. I just started my summer class and with volunteering, it has been a lot. I plan on writing more flash fiction, maybe even a short story of sorts. There will still be poetry but I’m just trying to explore more with fiction.

Happy reading!

-Elizabeth Lacey


I feel      guilty. What      have I done? 

No      thing. 

I think    things are okay when they are     not. 

But that      is all I do is      think. 

Think. Think. Think.  

I make       excuses for       those who may not      deserve them. 

But that      is all I do is      make. 

Make. Make. Make.  

Yet      what have I done?

No      thing. 
–Elizabeth Lacey 


They’re that stain of spaghetti sauce on your white top splashed on after spooling noodles on your fork.

They’re that pressure on your cactus bladder full of solution after a day of ingestion. 

They’re that black ponytail on your right wrist that leaves a fuchsia ring after hours of wear. 

They’re me replying to you within our usual fifteen minutes after you haven’t been here. 
–Elizabeth Lacey

Hit or Miss

“What are you thinking about right now?” he asked, stroking my hair with his hand. He looked into my eyes intensely as he waited for a response.

I looked past him and around the room. The dirtied white walls, clothes covering the floor. How did I get here? I looked around some more to prevent my eyes meeting his again. I stared at the ceiling.

“I have the same smoke detector in my room,” I replied.

He laughed at my remark and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

“You’re so funny. Do you know that, Katie?” he asked, still with his fingers caught in my hair.

“Yes I do.”

He laughed again and lunged back on top of me. I allowed him to make this move while peering at the digital clock to the right of me. 11:43 PM. I would give him fifteen more minutes.

“Oh Katie, I really like spending time with you.”

“Mm hmm.”

“I should get you back now, shouldn’t I?”

“Yeah I wouldn’t want to turn into a pumpkin.”

            I laid on the unmade full size bed, looking up again yet at a different ceiling. My dress was above my knees. I was wondering how much longer this would take when I heard the door squeak open.

“Who are you?” a thin brunette with a long nose asked me.

“I’m his friend.”

“I’m his girlfriend. Get out.”


I pulled my dress down and went to put on my shoes. I slipped each black bootie on one at a time. I grabbed my bag and jacket from the hook and walked out the door down the stairs.

“What are you doing here?” a male voice screamed as I made my way out the door.

“Are you kidding me? Again?” the brunette screamed back.

I was outside when I heard things being thrown around. I picked up my pace and ran back home in the rain, my heels clicking on the pavement.

            “I’ll have the butter chicken,” I asked the waitress, taking a sip of my water.

“And how spicy would you like that? From one to five?”

“I’ll have five, please.”

“Are you sure about that?”


“And you?”

“I’ll have the lamb vindaloo five, please,” he requested.

“And are you sure about the five?”

“Why not?”

“Okay, I’ll have that out in a bit,” the waitress replied as she left the table.

Our food was soon out and on the table.

“Five really is spicy,” he remarked, taking generous gulps of his water. He coughed a bit and inhaled some of the plain rice.

“Mm hmm.”

“How can you even eat that, Katie?”

“I don’t know.”

It actually wasn’t all that spicy.

            “Do you mind if I hold you hand?” he asked as we left the bistro.

I shook my head and soon his hand was grabbing mine. We walked into the park as it was drizzling. Soon, we were sitting down on a damp park bench, hands still intertwined.

“I had a really good time today, Katie,” he said as he looked into my eyes.

I smiled in response.

“Did you?”


“Good,” he said with a smile. He was still looking into my eyes. He moved over a bit and his lips were on mine.

The rain started to lighten up. I had to pee. I should’ve gone before we left the restaurant.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked, holding my face.

“Mm hmm.”

“I wore a different shirt in the car because I knew I’d sweat,” he confessed.


He continued to kiss me.

“Oh Katie I really like you.”

            “You aren’t going to eat your pickle?” he asked, pointing at what was left on my plate.

“No. I don’t like pickles.”

“Can I have it?”

“Mm hmm.”

He grabbed the pickle from right in front of me, throwing it into his mouth.

“So are we going back to your place?” he asked as he got up from his chair.

I got up as well and walked in the direction of my apartment. I unlocked the door and he followed me into my room.

“This is nice, Katie,” he said as he put his hand to my face.

He went back in to kiss me. I opened my eyes and looked past his face at my watch. 1:45 PM. I would say I have to meet a friend in thirty minutes.

His beard tickled my chin and I tried not to pull away. All I could taste were pickles.

            He took a sip of his iced coffee and leaned in closer.

“I can’t believe I’m living in the apartment underneath you next year!” he remarked.

“Mm hmm.”

“What are the chances?”

“I don’t know.”

“So want to go back to your place and make out for a bit?”

“How long do you think that would take?” I asked as I looked at my watch. I had twenty minutes.

He slurped what was rest in the cup, shaking to make the ice melt more.

“Well I don’t have a condom so it wouldn’t be long.”

“Maybe next time.”

“Are you sure, Katie?”

“Oh I’m very sure.”

“Well I’ll see you around,” he retorted as he gave me a peace sign and headed down to where he lived. I just kept on walking straight ahead to where I had to be.

            I waited on line in the Starbucks listening to whatever podcast was on my phone. I wasn’t wearing my glasses so I couldn’t see what was on the menu.

“Good morning,” I said once I got to the register.

“Good morning. What can I get for you?”

“A grande café latte please.”

“What’s the name?”


“Any bakery items with that?”

“No thank you.”

“That will be $5.35.”

I scanned my card and moved along. The hosts were still talking in my ears about this week’s topic. I looked outside for a while.

“Grande latte for Katie!”

I grabbed the drink on the counter and nodded to the barista.

It’s Kate.

Pull Yourself

Pull yourself together.


Pull yourself over to the the curb beside

the Korean restaurant once frequented.

Pull yourself into a storm of tears and

twenty four dollar eye liner.

Pull yourself to the bar down the hill

you haven’t needed to go to.

Pull yourself into a pool of frozen

margarita for chill.

Pull yourself to the seven eleven to

buy SmartWater to replenish.

Pull yourself away from the screens

and off your phone.


Pull yourself away from him.


Pull yourself together.


–Elizabeth Lacey