“Sometimes I’ll wake up in a fright and the words SO WAS I appear to be spelled in blood on my bedroom walls. SO WAS I has become a mantra for all my failures past and present.” Fiction by Derick Dupre.
Derick Dupre shares an entry from a notebook of thoughts he collected when he was 23 and working at a bookstore in Penn Station. Enjoy this March of the Damned.
“A man with bypass scars spoons something greasy into his mouth. Torpid picnics in the sand. An embarrassment of fishcakes. A pornography of bologna. The sun. The scents.” New short fiction by Derick Dupre.
“Ellen looked to the cloudbright sky and visualized contrails spelling out #NOFILTER, then #NATURALEZAMUERTA.” New short fiction from Derick Dupre.