...The unfortunate recipient doesn't even really speak English and reads Frankenstein at work and gets stuck working in the freezer section with only one glove, the suffering extremity red like a lobster claw, frozen. I guess it is okay because it is Susan Ludvigson and she uses a bunch of dashes and italics and I don't really know the right terms for what she does but what I'm saying is that it might be interesting to look at, even if you don't understand what the hell it means.
Anything seemed possible after sharing dusty unwashed green grapes at the bus stop, feeling those small circle perforations in the grape bag, unlike any other kind of perforation really. And how every single grape seems to taste differently, like a hand-mixed perfume in Grasse with the "noses" or the 3rd or 4th cocktail of the night. Stupid bus, picking up drunk people along the strip, voluntary residence in a vacation town. Oh what a night's every night. Ripping the passes in half to make two! Cheating the system to spare a few bucks, holding the flimsy half stub while waiting for the soggy behemoth to rumble up. White shirt, black pants, miscommunicating our 10pm journeys home...Stupid bus.