Welcome to Greenville
by Lisa Marie Zapata

I had the choice between a booty call or a literary salon. Carnal desire being a much more urgent calling than lively debate with university intelligesia, I walked to the NJ Transit light rail station, crossed the tracks, and took the lift up to a small neighborhood in the bordering town that sat on a hill—the Heights. I walked three additional blocks, unlocked the front door and removed my shoes before entering the apartment.