todd of tacoma

mostly a recovery blog


fiction

  • To do 8/10

    It’s gotta be melanoma. How I’m gonna die. Gotta be. I used to joke that I went through three noses a summer, for fuck’s sake. Burning and peeling and burning and peeling. And of the parts of my body that didn’t molt, family and friends with skin as white as mine used to admonish: you Continue reading

  • Netflix

    Netflix

    Dark when I wake up again. When it was becoming light out early, back in the spring (end of winter, early spring) I began already to look forward to this time of year. To write in darkness in the morning. To read by lamplight at night. August When I lived in Montana, I skipped a Continue reading

  • To do 8/3

    I never get asked to house sit anymore. It’s like a thing you do in your mid- to late twenties, if you’re lucky, and your early thirties, if you’re single or cheating on your partner. I never openly cheated on my partner, and by the time I was really ready to, there weren’t that many Continue reading

  • SPF 45, might delete later

    SPF 45, might delete later

    I’m doing that thing where you stand in the shower in the steam and stare down the drain like it’s a cave whose bottom is deep and black and you’re about to jump. It’s my second shower of the day and probably the second out of three. I keep going outside and keep reapplying sunscreen Continue reading