by Chelsey Richardson
“I still dream about it you know? The way the air clung to my hair on those …”
Champ, paused to inhale, soaking his chest with the hot steam from the stove.
“Those, what?” Tereasa said, raising her brows.
“Do you want one of these burgers?”
Grease splattered on the stove top like a tiny little rainstorm. Champ flipped his burger concentrating on the pink gummy pool of fat creeping through the flesh of the patty.Continue reading Friday Fiction: Yesterday’s Meat