15. July. 2007.
I hope you're doing well. I know I've been talking about myself a lot. I'm sorry. I saw this really good movie the other day; it reminded me of you. It was called... Oh, shit. What was it called again? It was some movie where the girl has a lot of babies because she doesn't want to be homosexual or something.
Michelle didn't know it was bad for "my young mind," so she dragged me out of the theater. It was hilarious. She was so mad, she had to have a cigarette. She was all like, "Don't tell Mom."
I asked her if I could have one and she gave me one; I didn't even have to blackmail her. I tried it and I just ended up coughing. I was going to stomp it out but she was shaking her head and snapping at me. "Don't you dare waste a perfectly good cigarette." And she smoked two, back to back. Now that surprised me. That wasn't funny at all. What if she ends up like Connor's sister, Terri?
No, I think she got something different but still. They're both dangerous and scary; like salt and pepper. I'll talk to Connor. I haven't seen him in a while. I miss him. He should come and see me. He said he was going to, though. He never really did. Like Michelle with the cigarettes. Jesus. We're all going to be poop if we keep this up.
YOU ARE READING
In the Days of Chapstick, Gum, and Soda
HumorI might write a book. I don't know. Life happens to get in the way of that sometimes. * * * * * Inspired by @Woowoowriting and her books: The Darlings of Suburbia and Seeking Connections. * * * * * Short Story #319 Hu...
