The Kings of Norway
They all were going around trying to prove themselves, litigating the case for their own worth: Look at me, look at me, look at me—I matter, don’t I?
you
dump him
wish
pristine
They’re just a bunch of gay jocks, that’s allEmpty in the head, clomping around
You had a rod up your ass, like all the pianists I know
again
pretentious scales, that’s all it is. They want me to go in and play them a fucking waltz and then walk out. That’s it.
Please stop making porn.
supportingmyself
gloatingchoose
Decent
Look at me, look at me, look at me—I matter, don’t I?
after
he
quit
no
Happy Birthday, I love youCall me when you’re free
Brandon Taylor is the Senior Editor of Recommended Reading and a staff writer at Literary Hub. He has an MFA in fiction from the Iowa Writers' Workshop, where he was an Iowa Arts Fellow. His debut novel, Real Life, is forthcoming from Riverhead Books.
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