I need to add about this reblog; I had taken it for granted that I had writ chapter eight, I had not. So for the present the series ends here, but will try to return to it. Hope you enjoy this nonsense. Keep in mind this was my youth.
Manny’s girl. A Turban Deb.
Upon one of our many parties, she had been crying. I suppose she thought I hadn’t noticed it, but I always noticed everything. Those things are wall to wall and little islands, clusters of little groups. Some dancing, some going into the bedroom. Smoking weed (this was before they graduated into the heavy stuff). Well she cornered me out under the front stoop which landed unto the sidewalk above us. Flirting, trying to get next to me. I was laughing but pushing her away.
Why, was the question she posed to me. “You’re Manny’s girl.”, was my reply. This was not my Brother Manny but the gang member from the Old Turbans who was always looking out for me, for he had a crutch on my Sister Gloria.
“We’re not together anymore.” She proffered. She didn’t want to take a no for an answer.
I smell things…
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