Today, my buddy JD Mader shares a story with us. He has a soulful noir style that just so beautifully accesses the pain and emptiness and loneliness and darkness that is part of the human experience. See for yourself:
She
By JD Mader
She was the kind of girl who could laugh when no one else was laughing without appearing foolish. She was tall. She wore tall boots and clothes that fit just right. She made you feel terrible about yourself, and you loved it. She was six feet of fierce intimidation with just enough vulnerability to really make the backlash snap. You loved her. You loved her for the moments of tenderness that slid like a greased ace between the overwhelming drama that coated both of your lives.
Some people know how to smoke cigarettes and some people don’t. You can’t smoke a cigarette furtively. You can’t do it brazenly. It has to hang off your fingers. It needs to look like it could fall at any moment, but won’t because it is an extension of your hand. You need to smoke it gently. The smoke needs to become your shroud. Your veil. She knew how to smoke cigarettes. Continue reading ““She” by JD Mader”
