I met Anoushka as she stood behind one of several windows in the county clerk’s office.

It wasn’t lost on me that, just four years earlier, I had stood with the woman I loved to pick up our marriage license and here I was, the day of our anniversary, filing for divorce. I would have said it was ironic, and my soon-to-be ex would say it wasn’t. She had the annoying habit of arguing about stupid shit like that. She also had the annoying habit of fucking my younger brother. But that’s their story, not mine.

Back to Anoushka. Anoushka had a body that, even through double panels of bulletproof glass, I could tell was fucking glorious. Civil servants, man. A steady gig, reasonable pay, and two panes of reinforced glass to foster that healthy, I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude. It looked good... Read More