What if we kissed in the McDonald\u2019s drive-thru, when it snowed, all the bushes looking like the Flurry machine exploded but it was okay, it was costless, money didn\u2019t exist, we were in a post-apocalypse with a quarter tank of gas and empty bellies and trembling lips and you and I called \u201chello?\u201d so many times it seemed like language didn\u2019t exist anymore\u2014 it used to, we could tell by the black box with red text flashing PLEASE ORDER HERE next to the LED menu someone had to be generating electricity for, if not then we\u2019d die as the warmth waned in our arms with only an hour or so left, I don\u2019t know I\u2019ve never died before, I\u2019ve tasted juicy perfection which I hear is known as a little death and that was what living was like right before the Internet and the power and the money disappeared\u2014 every day, a little death. And just as restless as in those days, we shouted at the walls of brutalist technicolor then turned and pressed the hunger held in each other\u2019s lips together\u2014 just like before, as if nothing had ever happened, a voice that sounded like cigarette ash sighed, \u201cgood evening, can I take your order?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
_____<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Juli\u00e1n Martinez (he\/him) is the son of Mexican and Cuban immigrants. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in\u00a0<\/em>HAD,\u00a0<\/em>Maudlin House,\u00a0<\/em>Rejection Letters\u00a0and elsewhere. Find him online at\u00a0www.martinezfjulian.com<\/a>\u00a0or @martinezfjulian, or IRL in Chicago. His favorite\u00a0<\/em>hex\u00a0piece, at least at the moment of typing this, is \u201cMy Dog Is A Cat\u201d by Xavier Garcia. That one\u2019s a doozy.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"