My Dearest Wigleaf:
Allow me to explain.
1/20/09. Inauguration Day. 9:37 AM. Zeke's Deli, Philadelphia, PA. 23.4
Steam on the windows. Lone strand of hash brown curled on the vinyl
-No, not hardly. Every single day and why? Why now?
-He still owe me $19.
-Yes, you do. Every day you ask me for money.
When I finally lay me to
rest, going to the place that's the best.
-His hair look beautiful. Did you comb it?
-Yeah, I combed it.
-I took a small cup of coffee, Mark. That okay?
-Good stuff. Thanks.
Going to the place
that's the best.
-Really? That'd be awesome.
-I was kind of racist and confused.
-Join the club, sweetie. Making time.
-More hot water for tea?
How does the Caribbean
-Probably spray myself into my eyes and stab myself.
-Because I'm a professional.
-Exactly. Thank you, have a good one.
-More hot water?
-No, I'm good.
I'm so into you, honey.
Tell me everything.
- - -
Read PM's story, "Deserve."
w i g · l e a F