Lock: jammed. Anger: unmanaged. Demons: assimilated. ______________________ I’m trying to get some R&R and this lock has her legs closed tight Unfuckingbelievable. This place is so cute, it’s annoying, and now the key doesn’t work so I’m trapped outside and will have to go back and ask for help. That’s not going to happen. A door to my right opens. My neck nearly cracks with the speed of turning to see who’s staring at me. Peering back is a wildcat, mid-thirties. She sneers at me and vanishes. Well well well. Looks like God just gave me a present. I’ve never been the bad boy, which I’m done paying for. Enough Mr. Nice Schmuck. Sara’s last words to me were, “You’re just so nice, Brendan. I don’t want to hurt you.” Fuck that upside down and sideways. So what if I bought her flowers all the time we were together. Never cheated on her. Let her know she was loved. Stayed faithful to her after she left our apartment to study at NYU, mid-college. Wrote her letters which I actually snail-mailed.
