Work work work work work. More important that I eat, Than you feel welcome.
Not my President. Not even my TV star, NOT MY PRESIDENT.
Donnie dropped the comb into the gold plated bathroom sink again for what felt like the billionth time. “FUCK!” Donnie screamed in frustration. Donnie hated how the stubby fingers on his tiny hands could never get a firm grip on anything they tried to hold. He fished the comb out of the sink bowl andContinue reading “Donnie’s Daddy, A short story by James J. Jackson, Jr.”