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24 February 2009 @ 10:05 pm
When I was on standby, I ate lunch.  
I used to walk filthy into Dominick's and nibble the samples on the way to the bananas and bakery in the back. My legs, mostly nude, would begin to get cold in the hyper-conditioned supermarket air as I fingered the chocolate bars of the checkout line. I would read their nutrition facts, as if someday I expected them to involve less saturated fat.

Soon, outside again, I would lean my bag between my bike and calves and lie on my sweaty back on the Illinois Avenue park benches. Like the ribcage of a firm lover, their smooth hard slats would press into my spine as I squinted behind my sunglasses, smashed my banana inside an asiago cheese roll, and felt the sun bake my sweat into my tan.

Now my skin is pale and chlorinated... my legs sparkling clean, cold, and unsweating... and I'm hungry... for bananas... for cheesy bread... for summer.

angry_tarsier on February 26th, 2009 06:11 pm (UTC)