It’s not our fault…
Happy Caturday all!
I’ve missed snippeting with you, so I decided even with 21 days left in my final term, I wouldn’t let myself get too busy to partake. This week I’m sharing from a different story: It’s Not Our Fault. This strange little story is out on submission, and if it’s really lucky it may find a home in Harmony Ink’s First Time for Everything anthology. It’s a Contemporary, but still has a surprise or two!
“It’s Not Our Fault” is narrated by Jordan Pond. He graduated from high school a year early and found the three weeks between his best friend returning to school and the day classes start at the community college to be a tad boring.
I almost left before she even came in, but for some reason I lingered over the crumbs of my cake and the dregs of my cappuccino. I hadn’t believed in fate any more than pairing up before then, but something kept me in that chair.
I saw her as I got up to leave, holding a bottle of berry-flavored tea in one many-ringed hand and chewing on her pinkie fingernail. She stood at the bakery counter, trying to decide between a cinnamon roll and a muffin. Eventually, she used the time-tested “eeny-meeny-miney-mo” method. At first I thought she might’ve been a boy, which still would’ve been cool but in a different way. Anyone wearing a black hoody sweatshirt with that sign safety-pinned to the back over black jeans and heavy black boots had to be cool, but a girl…I had to know her. The sign was a square of black fabric with lettering in white Olde English script, each word capitalized with a flourish, like you’d expect the first letter of every chapter in a first-edition Dickens novel to look. The solitary sentence read: It’s Not Our Fault Your Children Masturbate.
Thanks for reading!