Food Slut

It's April 5th and we're in Hungary: in Budapest, at an Easter Market, staring down wooden kiosks laden with painted Easter Eggs, bottles of elderflower syrup and strawberry wine; giant cast iron skillets heaped with fat red sausages, rainbow-colored root vegetables, and spicy potatoes. One kiosk attendant stirs a black cauldron full of porky, savory

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Pregnant

On the platform of the Q train, heading out to Queens. A crush of people; all of us staring down the train tracks. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. I think that girl pregnant. I turn to my left and it's a middle-aged woman; short sandy-colored hair and a soft Eastern European accent. Smiling at me, speaking in

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