Contributor: Tom Vinson
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The dishes were piled high and the kitchen smelled of wet bananas. The trash receptacle stood a foot and a half away; green smoke, revealing itself, thusly- ”Good afternoon” said the smoke, hat tipped. It was time to open a window, but the chipmunk, the one I thought I’d shooed away four hours prior, wasn’t having it.
I caught my reflection in the toaster. ”I don’t have a toaster” I said. My friend Garvy’s dad stood on my roof looking in. He smiled and waved. I waved back. Atypical, but I was having it. This is how it is .
Sometimes when you take a pee, it smells like certain things. This afternoon it smelled like the coffee I hadn’t yet drank’n.
Pre-emptive odors for a noon pee read the headline of the Yearly Shave. This is how it would be. I would not shave for a year. For it was Tight that told me that...
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Author:
Tom Vinson