Jacob Lawrence, "The Party," 1935
Jacob Lawrence, The Party (1935)
Can a Game Be Literature?

Mark's Pages

She came home to find her girlfriend unconscious on the couch, slick with vomit and drool, stinking of shit, empty bottles in a circle like fence posts, like trail markers, like tombstones.

The sweet, sweet girl, eyes like puppy eyes, made of love and empathy.

Her father's sweet baby girl.