The Mezunian

Die Positivität ist das Opium des Volkes, aber der Spott ist das Opium der Verrückten


Despite how late in the evening ’twas, the sun blared as high as if ’twere the middle o’ the afternoon as Edgar parked into the FredMart driveway. They all sat in a dimness that only seemed to make the sunlight outside hurt Autumn’s eyes e’en mo’. Autumn sighed, & then took a chug o’ her “water bottle”.

<Hey>, said Dawn. Autumn aimed a petulant glance @ Dawn without stopping. Dawn continued, <¡You’ll need your decision-devising skills for this!>.

Autumn lowered her “water bottle” out o’ her mouth with a loud pop & replied, <If you were paying attention, you’d know that the “decision-devising” has already been done. What I need to worry ’bout is my nerves — which you’re currently riding like a fucking bull. So shut it>. She took a chug, only to pull it back so fast that it sloshed water o’er her. <Actually, start yapping ’fore we leave the car. In media res, as they say>.

<All right, but put that ’way & lets go already>.

Autumn carefully screwed the lid on her bottle, lowered it into her backpack, zipped her backpack up, grasped the car-door handle, & then took a deep breath.

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Posted in Boskeopolis Stories, Short Stories