Stories by
J. Bradley

At night, you dial a number you used to know. You ask if it remembers you running your fingers through her hair, how it fell out like stars.

J. Bradley lives at jbradleywrites.com.

Lost in the narrative arc is the last time I said her name not like an errant hammerhead to thumb, the nail crooked as a blister.

J. Bradley lives at iheartfailure.net.

I had to sneak my hand on the small of Marie’s back like a SEAL team. Two more drinks and she would have been your mother instead.

J. Bradley lives at iheartfailure.net.

“Like you, I am a museum of stains. I hope she learns to ignore them,” the cheap hotel room said.

J. Bradley lives at iheartfailure.net.

When I said I wanted to stretch her out like a kite, she proclaimed my right cheek the lightning capital of the world.

J. Bradley is the author of Dodging Traffic (Ampersand Books, 2009).  He lives at iheartfailure.net.