Sunday, April 9

They called in droves the day I went over the speed bump at 68, sending Nuckolls Fisher 5 feet, suspended, so that he gashed his head on the bus's metal scaffolding. Parents dialing 7 numbers in shrill hopes of vindication, wanting to speak to the infidel who swept Nuckolls Fisher's swaddling away, early morning sunlight shooting quadrants across his dazed, broken face. The darlings, possessed by natural curiosity, had dampened the sponge of my crime by leaning into Nuckolls in full cognizance of fun turned solid; swallowed with the air of scientists and left me to the consequences of my own actions. I could not hold fort in the white face of Ms. Fisher's hysteria, which came in claws of significant-realizing-somethings and half-light forgiveness. She spit out "joy ride" and I took what she gave, red.

Eileen thinks really deep thoughts @ 6:30 PM

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home

want more? of course you do!