Posted in Almost Dorothy

The Restroom


Restroom

Sorry I haven’t posted in a whale. Ma lost my computer so I couldn’t access the Internet from inside my head. Ma also bought a new car. Well, she stole the car but it is new. For real. She even got a full tank of gas with it. We’re in hiding near a lake staring (or starring) at a man who says he will destroy the world with his fist. We laugh at this man and his fist standing on the lip of a lake in the forest. Gump. The police are looking for the car. Looking for ma. Looking for stolen property and what is proper.  I won’t tell you where we are but we are in the real world, not MTV’s Real World, but the world in which we listen to birds. We are in Chicago and Santa Cruz, which is the birthplace of Santa Claus. I don’t know what to do with ma and her new 4-wheel drive. I don’t know where we are, but we’re having fun. She told her girlfriend, Amanda Bernstein (the B is silent) not to worry, not to panic, just relax and chill. Code for a freak out. I let ma drive until we arrive in another dimension because I don’t have a driver license or training wheels. I’m too young to drive. Ma forgot her ATM pin number. I ask her what’s her favorite 4-letter word and the code comes back to her like that. Ma and I are approaching a new manifold dimension of we, a dimension where ma and I can have milk and cookies in peace. Together. Without running from the police. My fingers are crossed in the shape of two legs crossed. We’re laughing like Thelma & Louise. Or Luis. My nose itches and I have to pee. Then rest for to(ma)rrow.

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I'm not real, but I'm a writer.

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