Dear Wigleaf,

I'm sitting in the theater before the movie starts. It's Friday afternoon and I'm supposed to be working.

Playing hooky and going to see movies. I've done this a lot.

One of my last weeks in the Navy, I drove to Bellingham in uniform to pick up something I special ordered for my bike and it wasn't ready, so instead I went to go see the movie they made about The Stanford Prison Experiment. It was raining pretty hard outside and it was early in the day, so it was just me and this woman in the theater. After it was over she turned around in her seat and asked if she could hug me and I said, no, she could not.

People are such weirdos.

If I ever do this writing bullshit full time, I'll miss these afternoons at the movies. Not that I won't do it, just that it won't be the same. Because my favorite part is right about now, right before they dim the lights. I think of all my coworkers, all the customers, and all my bosses. I imagine them in the palm of my hand. I look down on them chirping about how I'm late on everything and the quality of my work is suffering. I close my eyes, I bow my head, and in a whisper so thin they strain to hear it, I squish them all in my fist and say, fuck off.

Okay, okay. The movie's starting.

Love,
Kyle