Skin House

Fiction. Did you ever get to thinking that down on your luck isn't just an expression? And that what we need here is a bigger statement? Something that adequately describes the scope of the situation? Like when your ex-wife spends all of her time angrier than a five-dollar pistol at everything on the planet, but mostly at you--well, really only at you, and she brings back your record collection but she sets fire to it on your porch and the flames spread to your house and that just proves what you've said all along; that she is crazier than a box of frogs. SKIN HOUSE is a story about two guys who end up in the same bar they started out in. Maybe they're slightly better off than they were at the start. Or maybe not. One has a girlfriend though. They both have a little extra cash, enough to order nachos whenever they want to without going through their pockets first. They're not dead, and that's something right there. And they're not arrested, which is the quite surprising part.