Zach’s Slush Pile

(a Catalog of Stories rejected as promotional material by Zachary Dakota Scott)

amberly ocd ribbons

My mom was dropping me off at the bus station last August.

“So how’s your love life, Nick?  Have you met anyone?” she asked casually.

“No, not really.”  I had been single for a year.

“Are you interested in something serious?”  My mom had been asking me this for a year.

“Not really.  I mean, I’m not closed to the idea.  If it happened I’d go with it.  But I’m not looking for it right now.  I’m kind of in a place where I’m just really appreciating the freedom of being single.”

“Okay.”

“I’ve got a lot to do anyway,” I said.

In New York, a girl walks into a bar.  She orders a pineapple juice.  The next day, we end up sitting across from each other in a café, sharing a salad.

Presently, in Reno, a gallon of pineapple juice from Trader Joe’s costs $3.99.

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