TOUCH THE EVIDENCE
Nothing happened. That is exactly what it wants you to think.
Slutty Confessions: I Dated My To-Do List
An intimate relationship with productivity and the shame of buying another notebook.
PRESS FOR REASSURANCE
Too late. You are already reading Broken Zine.
We met on a Sunday night. It said, “You could be a whole new person by Thursday,” and I believed it because the stationery was expensive.
At first we were inseparable. I took it to coffee. I took it to bed. It whispered circle back when I wanted to be held.
HOW FAR DID IT GO?
OPEN THE CONFESSION
And a second notebook for our future together.
Then it started bringing up my unfinished errands in public. “You still haven’t called the dentist,” it said, right there in the produce aisle. We needed space.
On Friday I crossed out every box. I felt free for eleven minutes. Then I wrote “be spontaneous” on a fresh page.
Names have been changed to protect the stationery.
LULU VEX
Lulu Vex keeps the confession drawer, where desire, bad judgment, office supplies, motel carpeting, and other dangerous household objects are allowed to testify.
Push something. The magazine is poorly supervised.
PUSH THE WEIRD BUTTON
A small bureaucrat somewhere just stamped APPROVED FOR NONSENSE.