Frame construction, two floors, a wide porch both front and back. Now it stood alone and forlorn, long grass and weeds filling the yard, a rusting swi...g set in the back. One swing hung on its rusty chains, ready for use but the other hung from a single support, tilted onto the ground. A large barn was visible, its loft door open to the elements, its red paint faded along with the "Mail Pouch Tobacco" sign painted on its side. Looking at the scene, one could almost see the children playing on. You know, Fattie McFatterson, no one wants a fat singer. The hell are you gonna be when you finally grow some character and grow the fuck up? I know. How about the same piece of garbage cashier you are now. You could lose that, you’re just too lazy to built some fucking confidence. Here’s a suggestion, lighten up on yourself, eh? She didn’t dare look at him. He was everything and would always be everything she would never have. Everything she would strive for and never achieve. He was her. More

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