Fiction Serial

Isaac Sullivan sat alone in an alcove of Butler Library, precociously spreading out his books on the table in front of him, grabbing some off the shelves to make his study situation seem slightly more intense than it actually was.

“So you used to write songs for a punk band?” Alexa asked, staring with what she hoped looked like a sexy curiosity.

“I wish they would stop calling these things ‘chicken-fingers.’”

“Yeah? Nail it in your platform.”