Finished Folds (181—200)
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4The sobs were louder but were interrupted by a staccato of defiant grunts and the sounds of fists hitting flesh. I’d seen and heard plenty of street fights in my seventeen years
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3It was so silent that I thought it might have been me for a moment, but a second grunt woke my senses and I cranked the knob on the door, rolling down the window.
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2My fantasy changed somewhat in that moment to a vision of me shooting my car first, then myself. As my chin sank into my chest in defeat I heard someone crying.
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2By the time my car came to a rest in front of the station, I was so enthralled in my daydream that I didn’t notice myself turning the ignition into the off position. I almost
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1turned off onto into a gas station hoping to locate a hose to cleanse my soiled shoe, or gun with which to shoot myself. I fantasized walking into the mini-mart that almost all
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3Half way to her house, I smelled trouble. More precisely, I smelled the dog shit on my shoe that I’d managed to keep off my face. There would be no hot Rainwater
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2If it didn’t start once we got out, it was just the excuse I needed to take a walk in the dark with her or to wait around for my drunk dad to show up to give me a jump. That kind
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1The rattle of the container gave me enough confidence to run across the lawn, slide behind the wheel of the El, and hit the gas. I knew from experience that I could make it to
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1I grabbed the peppermint gold from my dresser drawer and dashed back down the steps, skipping the last few and flying out the door with as much agility as an acrobat dismounting a
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5In one fluid motion I pushed myself onto my feet, spun back around and continued my run into my house, up the stairs and into my room. Without turning on the light, I grabbed the
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2Falling on my ass in the pile of dog shit would have given a refreshing sense of finality to the night but my reflexes kicked in and I spun in the air, landing on my hands and feet
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2It didn’t even occur to me to pay attention to my father’s keep off the grass signs, but it should have. I realized this as soon as I stepped in the small pile Mrs. Chu's Mutt
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0I couldn’t afford to shut the car off and I couldn’t afford to let it run for long. Jumping out, all I could think of was missing the pickup time for lovely Jennifer and what that
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3I never throw things away and as such, containers like this littered my room, waiting for the moment I’d need a screwdriver to dissect a tiny toy car and save the world. I checked
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4I found it hard to find fault with them, but that didn’t absolve them of their responsibility. A quick check of my mental inventory listed the likeliest location of my missing
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1How could they know that their new home for the evening was not one of the three pair of jeans I cycled through twice weekly, but the oft forgotten black sheep of the closet?
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4I hardly ever wore the dark blue Dockers that hung in my closet neglected until Easter Sunday or the three hours my father reserved for sobriety during my birthday dinner.
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1I realized why my father, even when drunk, only pounded on my bedroom door to wake me in the morning. I suddenly felt somehow responsible for my mother leaving. Reaching for my
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3I cupped my hand over my mouth and exhaled and then inhaled sharply through my nose. Present. Very. Very. Present. I suddenly felt a great deal of empathy for my dog.
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3Stepping out of the house, I knew there was something I was forgetting. I checked my pants. Present. I checked my chin for stubble. Absent. I wipe my nose and checked the back