Lonely Tylenol

by Kristin Kearns

I fell in love with a palindrome. His name was Otto and he was the same front and back, he had two identical faces, a matching set of scars, two penises, joints that bent either way. We had sex twice in the morning and twice at night, first one side, then the other. Otto knew all sorts of phrases that were the same forwards and backwards. Level, he'd say. Level, I'd say.

Never even, he'd say.

Never even, I'd say.

Now, sir, a war is won.

What I liked best about Otto was that he never turned away from me.



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