I hope you like today’s short story, “The Plan”. Sorry it’s a little late today.
You hated the blonde that your dad was bringing home. For our plan to work, we had to be back home before the streetlights on Cedar turned off and the ones on Man Lick turn on. It was cold, so I stood close to your cigarette. We went over the plan once more. You offered me a puff. You said I did it wrong and laughed at me when I coughed. We planned our getaway in chokeholds. You’d get slepping bags. I’d get food. We laughed. We lay there on the bottom step in the park. You said you didn’t think that was a cigarette. I asked you where you got it. You said you found it on the step. I didn’t want to get up, so we didn’t. I said I was sorry about the kiss. You said my breath smelled like the cheese curds we had earlier that evening. We missed the streetlights. I guess we should’ve had a backup plan. We were stuck in Salvisa until I went to college and you enlisted. You’re doing okay now, as far as I know, married to your own brunette and bringing home your own red head when your brunette’s away teaching political science at Lindsay Wilson.