Chicago. Jakob rips a sugar pack, motions for coffee. Ginny lights a smoke. The Golden Apple stays open all night. Drunk kids hungry for hobo skillets and chicken fried steak fill the place from last call through sunrise; Jakob and Ginny, no different. Red-haired Virginia’s rocking rockabilly, cute as can be in green gingham. Jakob bends his billfold, reckons the check. For this girl, he tries to muster smart-seeming talk about the future, a gambit. I’m good with my hands, he says. My uncle’s in construction. Ginny leans forward, ashes in his cup. Not another word from you but kisses.
Big Hark’s work has appeared in Tin House, Expat Press, BULL, and JAKE.