we talked to danielle chelosky, author of cheat, pregaming grief, and baby bruise, about digital memorabilia, covid in literature, and kaiju.
dear otto, in a perfect world, your mouth is on my knee, yellowed teeth sinking into flesh, not creating a hickey but instead eating me alive.
“in his bed, we made out with our merlot mouths and explored each other’s skin despite the relentless heat and the constant warnings about staying six feet apart.”
“maybe to be controlled was a privilege. i tried to appreciate the asphyxiation of the leash around my neck, the euphoric suffocation of obsessive love. it worked for a while.”
we landed the big account, ghostbusters-style.
over cheap beer and well drinks, they shared classic stories, brave recollections, and dark musings. the rumors, the gossip, the urban legends ran wild. new canaan had a curse, their peers decided. their generation, the classes of the first five years of the infant millennium, they were all stepping through life with a piano suspended above them and bull’s-eyes on the crowns of their skulls.