It Is A Perfect Weapon

And So I'm Stupid For Thinking They Might Be Useful. Because Of Something Johanna Mason Said While She Was Oiling Her Breasts For Wrestling.

Don't Let Him Take You From Me.

Underground. Which I Hate. Like Mines And Tunnels And 13. Underground, Where I Dread Dying, Which Is Stupid Because Even If I Die Aboveground, The Next Thing They'll Do Is Bury Me Underground Anyway.

Your Favorite Colour . . . It's Green?" "that's Right." Then I Think Of Something To Add. "and Yours Is Orange." "orange?" He Seems Unconvinced. "not Bright Orange. But Soft. Like The Sunset," I Say. "at Least, That's What You Told Me Once." "oh." He Closes His Eyes Briefly, Maybe Trying To Conjure Up That Sunset, Then Nods His Head. "thank You." But More Words Tumble Out. "you're A Painter. You're A Baker. You Like To Sleep With The Windows Open. You Never Take Sugar In Your Tea. And You Always Double-knot Your Shoelaces.

To Be Honest, I'm Not Much Of A Drinker. It Makes Me Sick, And I Hate That.