A Story that Kills Dreams
By Ryan Carter
We were riding beside one another, cutting off traffic. He said, “I want to cut off a piece of your cheek and keep it in my pocket. I can carry it with me.”
He said, “I want to cut off one of your lips and keep it with me.”
I said, “Would you pull out my eyelashes?” He said, “What is the meaning of eyelash?”
I said, “After you pulled out all my eyelashes, you could blow dust in my face? You could tie me up in a chair, and throw dust through a fan, into my face?”
He said, “Yes.”
I said, “Would you enjoy pulling out my fingernails with pliers?”
He said, “Yes, of course.”
