ChokeHold by Hector Duarte Jr

David drags her body by the sneakers that made the band millions. The slip-in kind with the designs all over them. So many people at their shows wore them. Some threw them on stage. What the hell kind of sense does that make? Throwing shoes of the lead singer’s own design back at her. David […]

Destiny, Motherfucker by Hector Duarte, Jr

My buddy—let’s call him Juan, loves to drive. I mean he’s a real speed demon; buys these fast ass cars like you and me buy new shoes. He’s loaded up from screwing people over with phony investment deals: Glengarry Glen Ross-type shit. So he comes around with a new Porsche Carrera GT red as the […]