today – Molly killed a bee. She didn’t mean too. She was on the phone – headphones if you will – with her bestie Abi.
She’s high because she always is and was pacing around outside her favorite coffee shop – current favorite – because they get better connection outside – that’s what he said *high fives herself* – when she stepped on a little leaf that crunched like a bug and thinks ‘oh I think i just killed a wasp.’ Because where she’s from there’s yellow-jackets and ain’t no fucking around with them so in her mind – before picking up her foot – she’d done a good thing; a favor to society and it’s susceptibility to getting stung.
and then she lifted her converse.


She buried it under a tree.

Not a word was spoken. The beehives all were broken.

so bye bye mr. bumble-bee guy i drove my converse over your body so of course you died
the future children are eating plain cheerios
singing all i want is to see the mystic bee-hives


Molly Screaming Inside

Molly just got a new job. The barista job was part-time and she was also looking to do something in hotels since the hospitality industry had always interested her, not by choice unless the drive of money counts as a choice. And – to be frank – she’d just read the Shining, yes children it was a book first, the Shining and was hoping to have her own Portland version of the experience. Minus Johnny of course.

Molly’s manager has asked her out not once but three times. She’s only been to work three times.

The first time was to help her move, since with Shelby her cat, she’s having a bit of a hard time finding a place to settle. That seemed harmless enough so she almost said sure, she didn’t have a lot of stuff to move and it would be nice to have an extra hand with the futon. But then she declined. Well, not declined just described her complete lack of possessions and the lack of there being anything to move.

He’s cool though. He likes the same shows she does and gets all her obscure Arrested Development and Archer references. Today, he offered to take her to an arcade downtown. She said she had work to do. He said, “Okay, go do your work, do whatever it is you need to do, then let me know if you want to go. I’m telling you. It’s my treat.”

The debate goes something like this in her head:

“My treat means a date right? He’s not asking the other people to come hang out, but then again there aren’t a lot of people working at the same time we are. Maybe he does this with all the new employees to get comfortable with them and get to know them as a human and not just a work partner. He is really nice. He’s also started to tell me about his family history. Maybe it was a mistake asking to see pictures of his halloween costume and talking about colaborating for cosplay. Maybe he thinks i’m hitting on him – but i’m not. Just new to town. Maybe he knows that and thinks the same and just wants to be friends. Jason at the café says he believes in men and women friendships. But don’t most guys just be nice with the hopes of getting in my pants? that’s what the last guy told me. That’s what my last boss did to me. Mee too. Sure sure sure sure sure. Just say no. Power walk back to your car and drive a stoney face home. Only cry for Tom Petty. Because it’s too soon. It’s always too soon.


Anna And Molly Meet Cute

Molly first met Anna back in their freshman year of college. Both girls, or young ladies, signed up for a feminist sci-fi literature class. Molly figured this would be a great way to start her freshman year and meet likeminded individuals, plus it was the only class still available by the time the University of Texas (UT) opened up class registration to the incoming freshman.

Of course, it was taught by a graduate student, but that just made it all the more amazing and empowering, at least in the mind of Molly whose mother had discouraged her from going to UT because “all those freshman classes are taught by graduate students and not real professors so it’s really a waste of money when you could be at a community college with real professors and living at home.” yeah, but the catch was living at home and going to community college.

The class proved a huge disappointment in the sense of getting to meet like-minded individuals. Molly knew this the moment she walked in. It was full of men. The professor-not-real-professor’s name was Sam and she was amazing, Molly still follows her on twitter, but the rest of the class was a bunch of freshman dudes who only signed up for it because it fit their schedule and was open. There was one exception though, the fiery Anna, who showed up late and introduced herself as a feminist who signed up for the class to meet like-minded individuals and who hated high school, the patriarchy, and lizards. Molly wasn’t sure what lizards had to do with anything but she was intrigued, to say the least.

That was the first meeting. The two of them didn’t get to connect a lot that semester, but they did connect once, and deeply during finals week.

Molly was wandering around West Campus; the non-school property area to the West of campus that is dominated by old apartments and large privately owned dorms and consists of 99% students, when she ran into Anna.

“Hey Anna!” Molly waved and she came over. “Man I’m so pissed at all the men ruining the vibes in our fem lit class.” “Same! But Sam is awesome!” “Agreed I have the biggest girl crush on her.” “Me too! I told my boyfriend about her and he thinks she sounds crazy, but whatever.” Molly’s heart sank, so not only was Anna taken, but she was straight. “Yeah well, men tend to not get the fem struggle.” “True, he’s a good guy and tries to but ya know.” Molly didn’t, but she nodded.

They parted ways. “Are you going home for winter break?” “Yeah are you?” “Naw I’m staying in town and working.” “That makes sense.” Their eyes met and, for a moment, it was understood. “We really should do something together. You’re the only other cool person in that class.” “Agreed. I feel the same.”

Three years.

Nothing. Just facebook, ig likes, and public comments. Then Anna walked into the coffee shop Molly was working at. Their eyes met. Recognition.

And a new start.


The Lesbian Struggle

What a lesbian moment.

Molly couldn’t help it though. She walked into work that day and her eyes couldn’t look away. She was stunning. Blond highlights in thick straight hair tousled around her face and down her shoulders, flipping up over her head making a little frame almost pompadour, she’s looking, catching of eyes in a jar of time for a moment, she’s creeping her out with her stair but she can’t look away but she does because she doesn’t want to creep her out the exact opposite. She goes behind the counter and back to the back to set her stuff down.

Daer reader the aforementioned lady is worthy of description: she’s wearing this adorable vintage dress that has a prairie design skirt and a heart-shaped neckline, she’s paired it with a moto jacket, wedges, and belted it all together with leather straps including a leather hip pouch (yes a fancy way of saying fanny pack :wink_wink:)

Her face is one of those that exudes energy. There’s a warm glow coming from it, but there’s a hint of sadness unseen beneath the first glace. Her eyelids are wearing sparkly pink eyeshadow and the rest of her makeup is a subdued i-woke-up-like-this.

Molly wonders what she likes to do for fun, if she’s a reader, what books she likes to read, does she write, who is she hear with?

Because of the obvious awkwardness of her stare, Molly goes up and tells her, “I’m sorry to stare, I just think you’re really beautiful.” “Oh, you’re so sweet. You’re really beautiful yourself. I’m just a mirror.”

Ah, the struggle. “I think you’re cute.” “You too!” Girls. Easy to complement, but the problem arises because they never realize Molly’s actually hitting on them and would ‘like to get to know you more’ type of thing. At least that was how it started with Anna. Slow, friendship and then the love.

Or what she thought was love.

Molly prepares a shot, ah the struggle. The lesbian struggle. is real. She laughs and pours.

Shower Pube

There is a pube in the bathroom that has been staring at her for weeks now. It won’t go away. It’s vibrant red, she has pale brown hair so it’s clearly not hers, and yes the carpet matches the curtains. Molly keeps hoping, wishing, dreaming, that it will disappear. But alas.

It’s probably just a beard hair, right? That means its safe to touch right? but no lets be reasonable, it’s not a beard hair, and what if I touch it thinking it’s a beard hair but it’s actually a pube hair like it looks like and what if I touch it thinking its a pube hair but it’s actually a beard hair well, either way, it’s going to make me feel sicker than I already am just looking at it if I try to touch it. What if it should touch my foot, or worse, my leg as I try to wash it down the drain if I remove it with a cleaning cloth or scrubber it will inevitably just get stuck in that and spread around making it the spider that got away which is even worse than the one you can see right in front of you…

And so she takes her shower; just leaving it there for another day.



Popcorn Shelby

Jeremy made a joke about cleaning her room

She didn’t even smile.

“So what did you do today?” He asks for the second time. Molly repeats, “You know, nothing much” and adds, “just sat around dranking coffee.” Pause. Pause. Paaauuusseeeee, “You?”

“Oh you know, mostly just hung out here, drank some coffee, I did some cleaning.”

She looks around, “Oh yeah. Nice. It’s always so clean around here.”

“yeah, I did a little bit down here, mostly though I cleaned upstairs.. . in my room.”

“Okay, nice I wouldn’t know.”

“Yeah, I didn’t clean your room.” He laughs; alone.

“Yeah because I definitely would know if you did.”

Those horrible minutes where she regrets ever wanting popcorn, every buying popcorn, hating Orville Redenbacher. Because those were some painful two minutes.

Shelby is yeowing for her upstairs in her room. I feel the exact same way. I feel the exact same…



Molly’s ex-GF and Work

Molly is settling – it’s only been two weeks, but she already has a job, thanks to a letter of recommendation to Random Order Coffee and Pie Café from her old manager. The main struggle with moving, of course, is meeting new people and establishing communal feeling. That’s where the coffee shop lifestyle suits her fine. Plus, it’s a great way to meet ladies.

Not that she’s on the market or should even be looking yet. Misstress found out her girlfriend was more straight than ‘bi’ and was sleeping with one of their mutual friends only a month before leaving for Portland. They had planned on breaking up before the move, so that neither would feel “restrained” as Anna – Molly’s ex – so elegantly put it.

Of course, it was all just a ruse, so that they could come out to Molly after she’d moved, but Richard, a fellow barista dropped the bomb that he’d seen them come in the clear morning after getup – smudged mascara, hand holding, giggling like a high school gaggle.

“Calm down, calm down.” Thinking it about it still brings a rush of anger and tears. Molly focuses on the couple ordering in front of her. They’re holding hands and doing a bumping thing, where the lady bumps him and then he keeps looking up at the menu and then down at her, “Well, I’d like an apple pie…” She bumps him again looking up into his face; he looks down at her and raises his left eyebrow, “you?”

“Apple pie for me as well with a scoop of ice cream if you’ve got it.”

“We do,” Molly says smiling, “Would you like ice cream with yours too?” “Yes, actually that sounds good.” Molly smiles to herself as she enters the order into the iPad and calls it back. And that folks, is how to do an add-on and subsequently make a little more of a percentage tip. 

They’re happy sitting at a table talking about their week, their life, the weather. “Hopefully it won’t get as cold this winter.” “Yeah, last years snow was a disaster.” “Thank goodness you taught me how to drive in the snow back in high school.” She bumps him again.

Molly sets their order on the bar and calls it. He stands then turns and looks back at her, “I’m not getting yours.” She laughs and they both retrieve their ice cream and pie.

“They’re cute aren’t they?” It’s Jacob preparing another shot. Molly turns to him, “Yeah they are.”



Anti-Anxiety Hair and Shelby

Jeremy is becoming the bane of her existence.

“If you took anti-anxiety medication you would have a nice head of hair, like mine. I’ve  been on anti-anxiety for 10-years now and see how nice my hair is.”

“I see.”

She keeps Shelby tucked away most of the time because the guys have taken to brutalizing her when she’s out. Everytime Jeremy sees Shelby, he lures her over with a piece of string he’s taken to keeping in his pocket – like seriously how annoying can men be? – then once Shelby comes over he strokes her nice and makes her purr. That’s fine, but it soon changes to a game where he scratches her on her ears and makes her shake and make a yucky face. He laughs and laughs at her.

Molly hasn’t had a chance to meet one of the guys. His name is Atticus and he’s two years younger than Molly and is always up at 5-am and tucked away in his room by the time she gets back from the closing shift.

From what she has seen of Atticus, the brief hellos she gets from him as he heads out in the morning for work, he seems nice enough. About six-foot and dishwasher blond – yes it’s dishwasher, not dishwater because that’s just mean – that he wears gelled up to make himself two-inches taller. He’s all business down to the ridiculous leather briefcase.

Note: Molly wonders if he actually keeps briefcases in there, or cases of boxer briefs. He has yet to disclose such information.

The other roommate is simple stoner dude Sean. He’s in his mid-thirties and is in Portland working as a contract manager at an ex-Holiday Inn that is making the switch into a Marriot. They’ve gotten high a few times together, which is nice.

Jeremy is still talking to her. She raises her hand, “Good talk. I’ll talk to my doctor about anti-anxiety. Thanks.”

“I mean you really should.” He keeps talking to her as she climbs the complaining stairs. “I keep finding your hair everywhere.” She tries to go in her room, but he’s followed her up, “Hey. Again. Good talk. I”m going to go to bed now.” “Okay, no need to be so stand-offish.”

You can’t win people. You can’t win.

She closes herself in her room. Shelby’s there. The snuggles begin and she remembers how to breathe.




Mistress Brushes Her Teeth

Just because I’m single, doesn’t mean my heart is free. 

There’s a girl back home. It’s always a girl. You tell yourself you’re not going to do it, not going to open up and let another one into your heart, but you do. You can’t help it. There’s a girl size hole in your heart, but no girl can ever seem to fill it for long, to fill it forever. So you get used to just living with an empty girl sized hole, telling yourself you can get by on your own just fine. That all you need is Shelby.

These were the thoughts flitting through Mistress Molly’s mind as she brushed her teeth in the shared bathroom. It had taken forever for her to finally get a chance to get in there and clean up for bed. She was sharing the house with three other’s, all male, which she found very annoying, but knew they would find sexist if she said anything.

Shelby is relegated to Molly’s room when Mistress is out. There’s too great a chance that she would try to slip out into the cold streets.  she doesn’t want her slipping out the front door.

Jeremy keeps talking to her. She’s only been there for three days, but right from the start, he singled her out to be his. She’s not acquiescing easily. Sure, she could just tell him the truth, that she’s a lesbian aching for her old girl, she does, in fact, try to, “Well, I’m not really into men. I’m kind of more into women.”

“But you’ve been with a man before right?”

“uuuuhhhhh” She makes the Tina Belcher sound.

“See. That’s good.”

Great. Exactly whatever girl wants, a man telling her how to be with her sexuality and trying to define her. She tries to lessen their relationship but is rebuffed then too. “I have a no roommate policy.”

“That’s stupid. Because I think you’re really nice, and I’m really lonely and I don’t think it’s unreasonable for us to hang out. What? You probably feel like I’m harassing you, don’t you? Well, I’m sorry. I feel like it’s sexist. Because if I was a girl you would be open to doing stuff with me.”

Literally. She smirks and eats her bagel.