Something Little About Miss Carol [draft]

“Yeah, I got knocked up when I was nine, but I’m one hell of a soccer mom!” I can’t even drive yet. I would have to hire a minivan. The absurdity of this makes me laugh out loud, in “Miss Carol’s” blonde, neck-less face, and she pulls her features back into their fatty cushion, offended. I have a mouthful of turkey.

Tiedye [draft]

And being really, really careful not to smear or drip because we’re going to tiedye our WalMart clothes in a few minutes and we’ve been building rubberband blueprints in our brains all day.

Fruit

Empty plastic bodies and lids—skeletal Tupperware remains—clatter to the floor beneath me and roll around my feet.