The smell of the meals at the old folks home smells like blood. I sit beside you knowing full well that your dentures used to make clicking noises whenever you moved your jaw, I thought your jaw would break off. Donald gets wheeled to the table and he doesn’t take his eyes off of me. “I’ve been taking the same damn pills for 4 years straight!” Maybe he’ll go to his room and break things like he usually does. The huge dog walks down the hallway, must be done his rounds, I want to bring my dog here someday.

I was sleeping as usual. I woke up to hear that muffled tinny sorry excuse for a cell phone ring song. The only reason I knew it was Furtado song was because everytime I was with you you’d sing it as loud and clearly as possible. You’d left yourself 300 texts and phone calls in total, you must be angry that I didn’t return the phone to you sooner. Its just a phone, right?

We were sitting in that classroom, no teacher at all. We were being good kids I think, but then somebody suggested we run. Run from what I’m still not sure but I pretended I knew like everybody else did. My teeth were bothering me again, the elastics were attached to the top two teeth and the bottom ones making a funny looking triangle. It hurt so bad and they kept getting tighter and tighter as we raced around the corners and down the stairs and up the stairs. I tried rearanging them but that was difficult too. We ran to the theater and the doorman shushed us and said we could only get in when Cory started singing. None of us knew Cory so we assumed that when a male teenagers wobbly voice started singing we would enter through the wispy curtains and take a seat that we didn’t pay for. We entered at the wrong time and everybody looked at us with creased foreheads.