pages I Know What I’d Like to Drive a Nail Through

by Greggory Moore

Published in Issue No. 3 ~ April, 1996

I saw him walking on campus. He was about 30 feet ahead of me, dressed in khaki pants and sandals, walking like a stupid Jesus. He knew I was behind him, but he was pretending he hadn’t seen me. It had been two full days since he was in my room getting dressed, his cum just beginning to drip out of my vagina. Not very immaculate of you, stupid Jesus! I’d left two messages on his answering machine, but I knew he wasn’t going to call me back. This resurrection in my presence was merely an unavoidable coincidence. I don’t even think he cared that we’d eventually run into each other on a campus of only a few thousand. Unfeeling, stupid Jesus!

“Hey, stupid Jesus,” I called. He didn’t even turn around.

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Greggory Moore is a struggling artist whose short work has been published in England, Australia, New Zealand, Canada, and the United States. He has completed a couple of longer, but unpublished novels. He fancies the work of Nabokov, Stoppard, Borges, and Sterne.