I greet Khalid warmly because he’s a chill guy. He hands me the packet containing my food. The order printout says seventeen dollars. I pay, and giv... two dollars to Khalid because I know what it’s like to have a crappy job one does just to pay the bills. Khalid asks me how June is doing. Ah, Khalid, why did you have to go there? June is a tall, beautiful young Black woman I was dating for most of the summer of 2012. We met at the movie theater, and just clicked. She was half Haitian and half. ‘Hi, did you sleep good?’ ‘Yes, I had to take a pill.’ ‘Oh, I am sorry, are you OK?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘I read your stories.’ ‘All of them?’ ‘Yes, all of them.’ Silence, I felt the clawing at my chest, bubbles formed in my eyes. ‘Well?’ ‘You write very well,’ he told me. ‘I don’t think so.’ ‘I read Ted’s stories, too.’ ‘ALL of them?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘But he has 100 posted, that would take all night!’ ‘It did,’ he said, laughing. ‘Well?’ impatient now. ‘I love you!’ ‘What?’ ‘I love you!’ Silence. Then finally,. More

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