44 lines
2.5 KiB
Plaintext
44 lines
2.5 KiB
Plaintext
s$
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$$ .d""b. .d""b. HOE E'ZINE 1052
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[-- $$""b. $$ $$ $$ $$ -- ------------------------------------------- --]
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$$ $$ $$ $$ $$ss$$ "Grandma's House"
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$$ $$ $$ $$ $$ by, Kreid
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$$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ 04/7/00
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[-- $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ -- ------------------------------------------- --]
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$$ $$ "TssT" "TssT"
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there was teary mumbling everywhere inside her den, among life
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machines still plugged in and operating, ancient newspaper clippings of
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obituaries and advice columns, teary mumbling all of love and/or grace.
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except maybe for dad's mumbling. he was searching a jungle of useless
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documents and newspapers for life insurance-type papers.
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i was looking for stray jewelry that i could pocket. people kept
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showing me old photographs of myself found in the rubble. there was a can
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of yams in the refrigerator, which incidentally was the worst-smelling
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part of the whole apartment.
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i found a soiled pair of panties stashed behind the radiator and
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an indian-head penny buried at the bottom of a final mound of cigarettes
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in a cracked-glass ashtray.
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there were pills everywhere, diuretics and dietary supplements,
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but i couldn't find her morphine. i guessed that she took it all with her
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in her final, most horrible hours.
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i smelled horrible from the moment i entered that house, and the
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heat inside was even more repulsive than the heat outside on the sidewalk
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at noon. the landlord yelled at me while i was sitting outside because
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grandma's trash was starting to crowd his dumpster. "you're talking to
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the wrong guy," i told him.
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he looked at me like i was an asshole or something, then he looked
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like he'd like to break my legs over it. "you're welcome to come break my
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legs if you'd like to try it."
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vacant stare. "because i'm an asshole! isn't that what you'd
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like to do?" he turned his back on me and went inside to yell at my
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family. maybe i was wrong about the guy. all this mourning around me was
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making me a little bit crazy.
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"nobody does sadness like the irish," my father said. he's only
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half-irish.
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sure, maybe i was wrong about the guy. or maybe he just couldn't
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stand the smell of me. i didn't change my shirt for a week after that.
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[-------------------------------------------------------------------------]
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[ (c) HOE E'ZINE -- http://www.hoe.nu HOE #1052, BY KREID - 4/07/00 ]
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