The Nineteen
The number nineteen appears with such frequency in this deposition, it begins to feel rehearsed.
Waffle Monday
And I’m in Ann Arbor, dreaming of waffles.
How to Escape
Where had he been when? What happened on the way? Why was he there? How did he die? The answers were dispersed on these 28 square feet. We needed them to get out.
… and now I’m the “Crazy Bird Lady”
I have a significant other. His name is JJ, and he’s a bird.
Smart
Outward Bound, Super Camp, tutors, counsellors, mentors—my parents spared no expense in trying to figure out my 2.33 cumulative high school GPA. Nothing worked.
Notes From Captivity
0734:
Bobby pin located by companion, lock picking commenced. She picks. I pick. The lock is deemed unpickable.
This, Too
But the sun comes out and doughnuts exist and there’s a one-eyed cat who likes to roam the school grounds and often visits my window. This happens, too.
Bussing It in Cambodia
Driving in Cambodia is not a careful endeavor. It is not orderly. The rules are, at best, flexible.
Nothing Goes as Planned
Last fall, my much-delayed Megabus dropped me off in Chinatown at 2:30 a.m. I had seven percent battery life, four dollars in cash, and no idea how to get to Brooklyn.
Graying
The grate creeks and I move to step off, but it snaps under my weight. I’m falling. I thought I could grab the side of the sidewalk, but I can’t.
