Cheap Thrill


By Lily O’Brien

I love a bad book. A really boring, disgusting and poorly written book. I love the small print and the anorexic pages. I love the bloated physique of an unattractive prospect. Its bubbled over title sticks out like new money. It’s ostentatious. It’s crass. It’s hopeless.

I don’t even pay for the bad books anymore. My coat pockets are shredded for the sole purpose of secrecy. In they go. One by one they fill the lining. A plump dispassion for the coveted, I prefer the ugly. Mormon romance novels. Cookbooks for teen obesity.
These, I can afford to hate.

8 thoughts on “Cheap Thrill

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