On our first night together she undressed me slowly from the shoes up. We were in her room on East William. She left the lights on. Her bed had no sheets. That mattress like striped pajamas, like the uniform of old, sad convicts. Her cello case loomed in the corner, a classy beast. When she unbuttoned the last button on my shirt, Maggie Brown looked me over, stared me down, and bit me so hard in the stomach I bled. I've hardly been alive since.
By far the best story in the "Rejection" issue. Overall, a disappointing collection, which, for me, is unusual for Tin House. Too literary for the sake of literary.