Monday, October 22, 2012

words II


One summer I was sittin’ on a boat on Berry Lake with a whole slew a people from my school. We were all chattin’ about stuff that didn’t matter and tannin’ or sunburnin’ as we laid on the prickly pontoon carpet floor. Some people were gulpin’ cheap beer that someone finagled from their dad’s garage fridge. I didn’t like the taste of it. It was so cold that it hurt my mouth; and it tasted sharply acidic and metallic as the rebellious bubbles riveted across my tongue. I remember shieldin’ my eyes from the sun as David Sabrowski asked if I wanted to hear a joke. David was a nice enough kid. Played on the football team, but nothin’ to be bragged about. His young, patchy beard moved around with his face muscles as he stretched his mouth to talk an’ tell me the joke. I don’t remember too much about what the joke was; but I remember laughin’ so loud that I’m sure people way on the pier could hear me.

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