Christopher Gonzalez
1. THE DISPATCHExcerpt from Cheat
Julio and his mother had spent much of his childhood watching shows that, in hindsight, he probably shouldn’t have been watching. Blind Date and Jerry Springer. Cops. Cheaters. All shows dedicated to debasing their participants—putting their vulnerabilities and rage on full display for viewers to consume with swollen judgement. Julio loved to guess who would throw the first punch on Jerry Springer or the exact way the guy on Blind Date would be creepy; his interest in Cops waned as he got older once the glorification of a police state didn’t sit well with him. With Cheaters, he really felt his heart strings pulled. Betrayal! Lies! Heartbreak! It was the stuff of telenovelas; it was high art. He watched eagerly as the host delivered the verdict, so cool and calm, measured: Here is how your cheater is cheating. Here is who he’s cheating on you with. Here is where. Here is for how long. Would you like to confront them?
There’s always a pause built in for the cheated to process the wave of new information. It’s this moment, which only lasts for a fraction of a second, that Julio obsessed over. The possibility for hesitation, the idea that maybe they could decide to call the whole thing off, tell the camera crew to go home, thank the host for his service, and return to their apartment where they wouldn’t think about the cheating or how they could no longer say, I know my relationship is strong. I trust my person. But, no. Always, they follow through, and what occurs is catastrophic, an embarrassing blow out on the street in front of so many others. Julio couldn’t stomach being on display in his anger like this. But he can’t live with it buried inside either.
2. BUREAU INVENTORYMonopoly, the board game, in a tin box. Used as a laptop base.
Many, many candles to alternate scents.
A stack of books I am currently reading and a stack of books to be read one day.
An insulated cup with my book cover on it, and a reusable straw. A gift from writer and friend Jen Fliss.
Mickey Mouse ears from my nephews’ first birthday.
A painting of a banana girl knitting a hat.
3. BIOGRAPHYChristopher Gonzalez is a queer Puerto Rican writer. He is the author of I'm Not Hungry but I Could Eat (SFWP). His work can be found in Poets & Writers online, Human Parts, Catapult, Electric Literature, The Nation, and elsewhere. He is a fiction editor at Barrelhouse and a recipient of a 2021 NYSCA/NYFA Artist Fellowship in Fiction. He lives in Brooklyn, NY but mostly on Twitter @livesinpages.