Ryan Manning
Cory Kennedy is looking at her face in the mirror. She is putting on burgundy lipstick. She is wearing a black dress. She closes the lipstick. She looks at herself. She stares at her nose for eleven seconds. She smiles. She looks at her mouth. She says “I’m going to get fucked tonight.” She laughs. She walks into the bedroom. She sits on the bed. She takes a glass jar and rolling papers from the nightstand. She opens the jar. She holds the jar up to her face. She inhales. She smiles. She takes a marijuana bud from the jar and tears it into tiny bits. She rolls a cigarette. She lays on the bed. She holds the cigarette between her lips. She thinks about eating. She feels like she has not eaten anything substantial today. She picks up a lighter from the nightstand. She looks at the lighter. She watches her finger push down on the safety. She looks at the flame. She lights the cigarette. She inhales. She exhales. She looks at the ceiling. She feels bored of life. She inhales again. She lifts up her hand. She takes the cigarette from her mouth. She thinks about getting fucked. She looks at her phone. She has three missed calls. She hears a noise. She looks out the window. Two children on bicycles ride past her building. She picks up her purse. She walks outside. She is still smoking her cigarette. She opens the door to her Smart Car. She gets in. She turns the ignition. Music starts playing.
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Ryan Manning exists. Some of his work has appeared via Lamination Colony, Robot Melon, and Pangur Ban Party.
