Tuesday, July 19, 2011


“You can’t go calling people cunt!” she rails at the whisperer.
     Who shrugs. “I say you’re a cunt, you’re a cunt.”
     “Intriguing,” her inner Mr. Spock remarks.
     “Not now,” snipes Feminism.
     “You can’t,” she flails.
     “Oh, I saw you,” he says, unexpectedly saving the conversation.
     “Looking at me on the train.”
     “I never laid eyes on you!” Suddenly, she reads paranoia in his absurd claim, his camo jacket. Paranoid, young, Black, and male: the kind of person the police go shooting over nothing. Her leftist heart swells.
     “Sir,” she pleads, “you really shouldn’t call anybody cunt. It’s not safe.”

For what happened first, see Back.

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