Gabriela Revilla Lugo

"So, did you ever cheat, Annie?"

Annie bit the nail on her thumb coyly. The truth seemingly swirling in her brain as if the words would manifest themselves into the ether. She looked at John, whose painful gaze gave enough away already. 
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She knew the truth of course. One only admits to cheating on a significant other for one of three reasons. 

Destruction. The desire to implode whatever cracked remains have held together the current partnership. In this case, there is no desire for restoration, no will for a new vessel. The goal is to make sure that the relationship shatters into many pieces; it can never be put back together either for self-preservation or to ensure the person you've hurt, who you love, will never be able to forgive and continue with their own self-respect. Sometimes this destruction is founded on love, sometimes on self-hatred, but in any event, the goal is to detonate. Annie had been in this situation before, but on the other end, when John had admitted to he...

In the summer of 2002, I began a project to search for myself in another world. More specifically, I wanted to find someone who looked identical to me, but shared none of my own DNA, none of my own torment, none of my own hallucinations. I wanted to find a built in friend who shared my face; a face that time had not been kind to, that nature had not blessed, that carried nothing special except the dimple on my left cheek when I, on rare occasions, smiled. It was no easy task. I had no idea how to even begin the search for another me. 

I started by doing what I do best, and created the facade of a website that did not actually do what it claimed to do. It claimed to be a networking site for other Asians around the globe to meet people with similar interests. On the site, people would pay a nominal fee to upload their resume, location, bio, interests and most importantly, their photos so they could connect with other strangers through key word searches. On the backend of the website, I ha...

Moria Matheson was fat. I know, you aren't supposed to say that, but she was. Just ask her. She was a giant, fat blob,  who was never good at anything except smiling in pictures looking like an engorged pig, not a micro pig either. Atleast, that's what her family and friends would joke about behind her back and, in a more playful way, to her face. She also often participated in the roasting. 

So Moria Matheson decided to hell with everyone. She was happy, she had her self respect, and she had this delicious carrot cake that she had made herself. She would move off the desolate, cold, botox infested Island of Manhattan and move to the trendy, up and coming, Roosevelt Island. 

Upon arrival, perhaps it was more 'up and coming' than trendy, but no matter. She had made her decision and would stick to it. Sure, everything closed rather early, but the high rises were luxurious, the park was manicured and the streets were quiet. Too quiet for some, but not for Moira Matheson, wh...

On the playground were three kids playing in a sandbox. One kid was frail, but kind, his name was Bert. Bert saw the other two kids in the box and decided he wanted to share with them. "Come play with my toys" he said, "there are toys for everyone", he exclaimed. The little girl, Hailey, whose look was cold and whose pigtails were seemingly wound too tight said, "wait a minute Bernt, toys are not for everyone. We have to assess the situation, who can play with these toys? did they earn these toys? We have to have a fair way to distribute the toys, but then changed her mind and said that "All the toys deserve to be played with," but she added, "We just have to find a way to equitably distribute the toys." Then Donny Tremors, the fattest, orangest, meanest boy in the sandbox threw sand at both of them and knocked over their toys. "No one can play with my toys!" he said, "My toys are huge, believe me, they are the best toys, no one has toys like mine and as a matter of fact, I'm going to...