One, two, three shells exploded. Summer was getting old. Eight, nine, ten. New candle. New beer. One, two, three shells. He wondered if he’d see Samantha next semester. Eight, nine, ten. New candle. Cigarette. One, two three shells shot down towards Food Lion. Eight, nine, ten. Smoked a bowl and jokingly thanked the founding fathers in his head. New candle. One, two, three shells over the head of the security guard. Couldn’t stop four through ten. He watched the guard write him a ticket. Should have shoved a roman candle down his throat. One, two, three, four, five, six seven…
***
Title by: dcdave
Story by: Nick
Related posts:
0 Responses
Stay in touch with the conversation, subscribe to the RSS feed for comments on this post.