Tag Archives: Lauren Hall

“Poker chips always remind me of Holy Communion,” Nicholas says, laying a white one on his tongue. “The body of Christ must be buried somewhere in Atlantic City.” He stretches himself across the sand, the only crucified sunbather on the … Continue reading →

Before she moved to Ohio with him, he told her not to come. I can’t promise I’ll marry you afterward, he said. I can’t promise I’ll marry you ever. She went anyway, years of Brooklyn crammed into damp cardboard boxes … Continue reading →