Member-only story
YOU SAY AMEN NOW
Peace In The Time Of Selective Sanity
Watch this swine smash some oysters for the pearls
My sister, Meg, was minding her own business. Picture her parked at a soccer field, waiting for her boys to be done with practice. Now picture a red truck racing up and skidding to a stop beside her.
When the dust settled a little, Meg saw the driver, and older adult human man. He leaned over his passenger, an older adult human woman, his wife or hostage (you can be both), and he spoke to my sister.
Some people speak in shouts, and that’s how the man spoke. He looked at my sister with his shining blue eyes, the blue of the biggest, brightest, fastest-dying stars in the universe; yea, he looked right at my belovèd Meg and shouted the following:
“You whore! You fuckin’ stink!”
The only thing we can figure is that he mistook my sister for a malodorous whore he knew. Because my sister’s no more of a whore than I am (though I did try to be more of a whore and failed), and she doesn’t stink. She smells like nostalgia: Patchouli.