Fatty

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You tell your wife that last night a Chivas drinker said you were one fine-looking man.

She takes a drag off her Merit, unmoved, leans across the kitchen table and pinches your nipple. Hard.

“I don’t care what some drunk slut said. Put a shirt on. I’m not staring at man-tits while I eat breakfast...

Featured in print & online in Narrative, Winter, 2011

Content Warnings

© 2011 Rob Costello

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