How to Find a Flock by Vola Chris

Author:Vola, Chris [Vola, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Unsolicited Press
Published: 2017-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

The questions were far tamer than what he’d encountered as a pubescent smut room devotee, but there was a thrill in the forging of textual intimacy, an arousal on par with what he imagined actual physical contact would elicit. If the girl got skittish and stopped playing or signed off, he would resort to another slightly less gratifying pastime: scouring the streaming video landscape in order to check in on which of his favorite starlets was farther along on the oft-tread arc, from casting couches and coy handjobs to triple penetration and rectal prolapse.

To an adult Roger, Allison was a welcome throwback to that indispensable era, though not in any sexual sense; the need to fulfill unrequited horny-boy urges no longer existed. Instead, they traded the facts – the loan-drowned reality of her recent graduation from a small school in a rust-colored Ohio city, his summer share on the straight part of Fire Island – and the obsessions – her resentment of a single-mother childhood and the sperm donation that led to her creation, his fear of developing colorectal cancer due to chronic Burger King gluttony – that comprised their inner and outer lives. She was fascinatingly ADD, filterless, able to jump in the space of a few lines from her internship at a law firm where she was trying hard not to perpetuate “America’s meritocracy myth,” to her quest to pillage the interwebs for the most awful sounding white baby names (my personal favorite so far is Kamdyn – aka murder capitol of the east coast), to the vitriol she posted on random people’s walls: “You do realize that Native Americans are a marginalized ethnic group that still exist, not a cutesie halloween costume. and your baby isn’t cute, fyi. is this an ad for birth control?”

For all she confessed, she never demanded the same from him. She could discuss how her roommate was a popular webcam model who got paid to play videogames in an elf costume and how sometimes Allison would try on the ears to not feel lonely, or how her bulimia phase had been so extreme that she wouldn’t go to class unless she was guaranteed a seat by the door and a clear path to a bathroom, and Roger wouldn’t feel compelled to tell her about how he cried constantly for months after he beat a pregnant squirrel to death with a nine iron or how he and his neighbor Timmy, before his mother found out about it, would take turns wiping themselves, post-toilet, as part of a game Timmy called “family time.”

All he had to do was keep the conversation going.

He would come home from work or a bar or wake up late and activate one of his devices and know that in a moment he’d be inundated with the same pleasing stream of pathos:

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