I had thought Snow would be more beautiful,

I had thought Snow would be more beautiful, but her lips were garish in her middle age, and the black hair had streaks of silver, and while I was no Prince Charming anymore,

I still longed for beauty. Something pretty to rest my eyes on as I conversed with this woman I had grown so fond of through the distance. With a name like Snow, I'd imagined she

would be some washed up old prostitute who was far past her prime. Little did I know this women named Snow would change my life forever.

Miss White hitched a ride on my Rig just out of Chicago when I was making a run south on I-55 with a load of garden gnomes. By the time we were rolling into New Orleans my payload

was blown scattershot all over Miss White. I dropped my truck full of garden gnomes off at the local Loews and decided to spend some time at the Flyin' J because

they had some new girls there that were worth checkin' out. At least, that's what Riley told me. But Riley was a bit weird that way some times. Once, he was completely smitten over

Riley hadn't always been such a cad, but something about the cashier girl made him talk like a slut. As a young girl of twelve, I found it weird for my Dad to be discussing this

in a Norwegian accent. I had no interest in Norway. I was only interested in parenthetical citation. Other 12-year-old girls like me were examining square brackets while I

fell ill. My colon had an ellipsis, and to punctuate my malady completely, I fell into a comma.