True Story

I woke up in Andrew’s bed and went downstairs. Last I remember I was reading. When I got there I forgot what I was there for. I folded towels, which I swore never to do. I thought about how hard it is to make people happy. It takes a lot of energy. I know why so many don’t want to do it. It takes more energy to be made happy. Nene looked at me and smiled. But she only wanted outside. She makes me happy.

More boys here tonight. Only three this time, in addition to the three already here. Usually there are more than seven, sometimes more than nine. A few girls, but mostly boys. Mafia type, Jarred says. He wants to repo cars. He wants to open a Bar & Grill (so I’ve been told). He wants to order his new engine today to replace the one he blew hotrodding at Bandimere, but he doesn’t have a job so he doesn’t have a say.

My sister-in-law called, my brother-in-law says he’s on the street begging food. She says he’s trying to protect me. She wanted to let me in on the loop. Something about Mexico and $50,000. He can’t leave or they will come after my family. Makes my head hurt. And my heart. Sometimes it’s better when the phone doesn’t ring. Most of the time I live in the Twilight Zone. This is a true story.

I remember now. A glass of wine. Red.

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