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The Anonymous This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

By Oelania P, Brooklyn, NY

I don’t mow lawns, I don’t read to the elderly, I don’t walk people’s dogs. I don’t go fishing in the morning, I don’t ride my bike to the tracks to watch trains hurtle by. I don’t care about the rest. It is dusk, and I wait behind Bob’s Liquors for you, my hair in my eyes and my hands in my pockets. I try to look tough.

And there you are, as serenely rigid as a .22 pistol. I watch you approach through my eyelashes and your hands are white and beautiful. You hand me the Ziploc and I gruffly press some bills into your glowing palm. You don’t ask what I’m going to do with it and I assume that you don’t care, but I desperately want to tell you that I’m only the middleman. I’m not going to lose control like every other man you’ve known. I want to see that knowledge in your dark eyes.


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1 comment(s)
kitchen_sink
this is soo good! You are the writer that I aspire to be! Good job. My favorite part is " I imagine the same girls sitting in the plastic booths 20 years from now, their hairstyles outdated and their skirts too short". I know thats a weird part to love so much, but it was so gorgeous and sad, the futility of life and people portrayed so perfectly. Love this!
Jun. 20, 2016 at 5:10 PM • Report
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