Category Writing

Velvet Marmalade

Broc 2 Comments

One of my early Uni short stories. Published in some sort of Local Literary Journal. Rough and Wild. Enjoy.

I said she was gone, and by all accounts of loving me she is, but she was also the only person that I knew of in this town that had seen me naked.  Damn if that makes any sense, but like every woman I’ve ever known she gets her way, so she must have the right way about something.  She says that a person, while not necessarily incapable of the act itself as evident in her leaving of me, is incapable of murdering someone that has seen their most secret of selves, as reflected in their flabby ass.  She says it is a mind game, that a man can’t kill a woman who could possibly be judging what he looks like underneath his clothes.  That he would choke on his perceived nakedness and she could gain the upper hand with the proper application of any number of quality household pain inducing objects. Continue reading “Velvet Marmalade” →

Dark Meat

Broc 2 Comments

420 lbs.

So the first summer of my weight loss ended.  I was secure in my hold on both not eating after 6 o’clock and anything carbonated had now become the liquid equivalent of my mother’s “no-no” room.  I basically had anxiety attacks anytime I got within a few feet of it.  Then the school year started.  I was worried about how I would handle living with constant food access and no helpful family members to give me the stink eye.  I was terrified that the work I had started would be entirely erased in a month’s time.

Luckily, my will held out.  The first few weeks I had to really watch myself.  I had moved to the bigger house, the one that has the kitchen in it.  That meant access to food was that much closer, that much easier to sneak.  As I said previously, I was becoming two different people:  the one who wanted to lose weight, and the one who wanted things to stay the same.  Continue reading “Dark Meat” →

The Lightning Feast

Broc 1 Comment

The Lightning Feast

So I was fat.  I had always been fat.  I could safely be called “quarter-ton” if you put the weight of a wet cat on my shoulder.  Now I decided to do something about it.  Hopefully before I didn’t need to cat.

I didn’t feel any different, I still felt like the same me, but nonetheless something changed.  While I used to always feel uncomfortable with who I was, I never thought I could do anything about it.  Now I just sort of realized that I could, and was going to.  It was a simple difference, but one that is a phenomenal one.  It didn’t change the fact that I was still just as lost pre-scale shock as I was post.  Continue reading “The Lightning Feast” →