1982
when the cauliflower-haired fifteen year old man-child who went by the name of bobby hale lost control of his temper, his face, already burdened with the cumbersome folds of early teenage obesity, transformed from its natural shade of seashell white to an uncomfortably deep rhubarb red and his voice, troubled as it was by the vulgar strains of puberty, could find no better outlet of self-expression than to produce primal grunts that were often laced with schoolyard profanity.
so begins the first draft of the first paragraph of a new story about a neighborhood at war with each other…. more will be posted. things will be edited.
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