He asks how many pillows I’ve got and I tell him forty-two. We fortify the pillow fort and get drunk. I’m drunk enough that I start laughing at everything he says and he starts lisping. Words sound desperately funny to me. He hits me with his bony elbow and confirms he’s drunk. Then he closes his eyes and says he’s happy. I put my face on his wrist, can feel the scars beneath my cheek, and I shouldn’t trust him with his life, he may fling it off a bridge the first chance he gets. But I trust him.
Brin Williams is a Los Angeles native and San Francisco State University graduate navigating the intersections of their identity as a non-binary person of color in an ever-evolving world. They studied Creative Writing and Cinema in San Francisco before moving back to their childhood home in Los Angeles. Now finds them looking forward to branching out and into the greater literary world. Twitter: @Espace_Noire. Website: espacenoire.home.blog.
The Centifictionist 
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