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Quote by Mary Simses

“Her walk-in closet greeted me with the smell of lavender. Hanging rods held Chanel suits and sale-rack department store dresses side by side. Shelves displayed sweaters of every color from peach to cranberry. I brushed my hand over a pink sweater. The cashmere was soft as a cloud.”

Quote by Mary Simses

Work

The Irresistible Blueberry Bakeshop & Cafe

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Author

Mary Simses

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“I have many wonderful memories of this days we had together. It would make me happy to know that at least a few of your memories of me are good ones. I wonder if you ever think about sitting under that oak tree, with the cicadas buzzing, and, at night, the crickets. Or how the ice used to cover the blueberry bushes in the winter, giving them that dreamy look. Or how we used to sell the pies for your mother at the roadside stand. I still think of you whenever I see blueberries.”

“I'll have a cup of coffee and one of your blueberry muffins." She sighed and looked at me. "Your grandmother was such a good cook. Her blueberry muffins were extraordinary." "Yes, they were," I said, and I was back on Steiner Street again, Gran and I taking muffins from her tins and placing them on a wire rack to cool, the smell of baked sugar hanging in the oven-warmed air, the muffin tops covered with rivers of blue where the berries had melted from the heat.”

“I have many wonderful memories of those days we had together. It would make me happy to know that at least a few of your memories of me are good ones. I wonder if you ever think about sitting under that oak tree, with the cicadas buzzing, and, at night, the crickets. Or how the ice used to cover the blueberry bushes in the winter, giving them that dreamy look. Or how we used to sell the pies for your mother at the roadside stand. I still think of you whenever I see blueberries.”

“Mr. Sweet answered, "THE TANK. WE DON'T HAVE ANY VACANCIES. CALL BACK TOMORROW." "WAIT. IT'S MiKEY." "MiKEY?" "YEAH." I ask him if he's seen Tiger. "That sweet delicious young thing you brought in tonight with the nice round booty? Yeah I SAW him. Said that he had NO IDEA where you were." "I'm in my room. Where is he?" "He left. You know that he's Sebastian Wolfe's lover?" "I know. How long ago did he leave?" "Two minutes.. three tops. Did you know-" "No I DIDN'T." I hang up, put my shoes on, and run out the door.”

“...Generations of black men had been frequenting Mt. Morris since the Harlem Renaissance. Rumor had it that Countee Cullen ditched his wife after he and Harold Jackman made Mt. Morris their regular rendezvous in the late 1920s. In the time since, thousands upon thousands of Black men used their bodies to create this delicate, invisible web connecting the queers of old to newcomers like me.”

“She was tall and slender with long dark hair that swung in a shiny ponytail from one shoulder to the other, her dress swirling beneath her cinched waist. He thought suddenly of watermelon. It was hard to come by back in Scotland but even before he'd ever tasted one in the flesh it had reminded him of summer (which was also hard to come by back in Scotland). He knew what watermelon tasted like now; it was one of his favorite things. He could almost feel it in his mouth as he stood there, that cold sweet powerful explosion of almost nothing. He needed to find a slice as soon as possible.”