Stories and Cigarettes

By Bridgette Kimbrough

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GREETINGS FROM PRAHA Story 1 | Pt. 1

June 06, 2020 by bkimbrough

”Buy the ticket and then you’ll have a month.
Whatever money you come up with, that’s what you’re bringing.
It’s the only way you will ever do it.
It’s the only way you can ever afford to go anywhere.”

Amy was right, this time and always.

I know little of my destination past it’s an agency for change.
How do I grow up?
How do I expand past this version of me, codependent and scared?
If change is in Prague, then to Prague I will go.

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June 06, 2020 /bkimbrough
humor, short stories, feminism, essay, memoir
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GREETINGS FROM PRAHA Story 1 | Pt. 2

June 06, 2020 by bkimbrough

I have landed in a wonderland hundreds of years old and perfectly intact. Its days bright and golden, sleepy and grey. Winter’s depth, added to the winters before, sets a weariness behind people’s eyes. There are deeper levels to this fairytale and it’s easy to lose time and space here. Easy to believe I’m in a place where reality is not concrete. But in an age where adventure is readily possible, doubt will need to be overcome. At 19, I was fearless. At 25, I’ve wised up. I will need this land of absinthe and babushkas to suspend my disbelief.

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June 06, 2020 /bkimbrough
memoir, humor, essay, feminism, short stories
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GREETINGS FROM PRAHA Story 1 | Pt. 3

June 06, 2020 by bkimbrough


The more he talks I think I’ve met someone honest and in his revealed form, Yirka is a total surprise. He is buoyant and playful. A thousand expressions a minute, his spirit is alive and right on the surface. We talk about bands and he amps up just like I do. It’s an animation that some find annoying and I get that; the volume, the squeals, the gesticulations. We only-children learn to entertain ourselves and hope to entertain others. In this, we two have met our matches. We let our hair down and ramble like girlfriends on the phone.

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June 06, 2020 /bkimbrough
memoir, humor, essay, feminism, short stories
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GREETINGS FROM PRAHA Story 1 | Pt. 4

June 06, 2020 by bkimbrough

I am unaware of exactly when she walked in. I know that we were both naked and that despite the event having not begun, we were well into opening ceremonies. On top of him with my back to her, I was laughing.

“You’re too Loud.” Her voice was close.

I can tell she isn’t in her doorway but rather in the room with us.
Fuck me…
How long has she been standing there?
Maybe the neighbors wanna come see me naked too.
If she could hear us, then why come out at all?
Just yell or bang on the wall.
This is weird. On top of embarrassing, this is weird.

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June 06, 2020 /bkimbrough
memoir, humor, essay, feminism, short stories
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