I have new flash fiction up on Hijacked Amygdala:
When you tell them your name, they laugh, they say, what a wonderful name, like the fault was yours. In your head, you tap dance to Nabokov: Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta.