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Times New Roman

In Fiction on November 11, 2009 at 10:00 pm

Friday nights had nothing to do with Times New Roman, besides the fact that the former was rendered from the latter. Feeling a little hungry and a lot horrible, Times New Roman ordered some pizza.

“How large is your medium?” it asked.

“You see the semantic problem with that question, right?” said Jules.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” said Times New Roman.

“I have an MFA in creative writing.”

“Jesus.”

Jules received his MFA from Brown. The pizza received its sauce from Red. Friday nights were difficult for Jules as well; all of his roommates were copulating and Jules had nothing but pi to top.

“I’m just giving you a hard thyme,” said Jules. “The medium is 14″.”

“Funny how the inch is denoted by the double quote. Things could get confusing,” Times New Roman said.

“If only this conversation were real,” Jules typed.

Jules’s bedroom walls did little but muffle the ostensible orgasm of some female in her early twenties. How sugary the bitter heart is. Through his boxer flap, Jules could see the tip of his penis, blind and absurd like a newborn alligator. He sighed, then again for good measure. “Famous writer,” he thought, highlighted the entire document, changed the font to wingdings, and quit without saving because he had a real job.

Jimmy Chen lives in San Francisco and works at a large unnamed institution. He maintains a blog and archive of his writing at the Embassy of Misguided Zen.

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  1. “…blind and absurd like a newborn alligator.”

    best of the day

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