amusing liaisons

Here’s the story of a girl whose supposed soul mate calls from two hours away for the first time since the voicemail on her birthday whose chronological figure is eleven years over what that juvenile teased her for or what the world thinks she might as well be while she’s at the playground doing things that are better left to the wholesome imagination with her plusplatonic friend while he points out what roman candles are, set off by other teenagers out on a Saturday night there in the grass where the kite never flew where our sneakers were stained where our pants were splattered with wet dirt where we laughed and shrugged and walked away. She hangs up. Be safe. Be courteous.