Stupid Dyke
By Makena Henriksen
My breath catches in my throat; all my muscles tense. My right eyebrow automatically snaps up. I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek, reopening what remained of last time’s struggle for emotional control. ‘Not again. Just one day can’t you leave me alone, or at least put a little variety into your insults? Ugh, just not right now.’