Cynics Are Babies

Cynics Are Babies

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Dec 2, 2015
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Fiction
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My name's Mckenzia Stroud, and I love a lot of things. The sound of my father's laugh. My adorable half-brother, Cosmo. The taste of strawberries. Playing vibraphone. Garrett Walker, the only other percussionist in the school, has a nasty habit of forgetting that he is not included in that list. If anything, I'd be more than happy to add him to the comprehensive list of things I hate. He can go right up there at the top. Just below my sister's drinking, my mother's new marriage(s), and the taste of said sister's liquor. Alcohol is an acquired taste, but the flavor of that cynic of a marimbist will never be welcome on my lips.
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#431
alcoholism
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