Kwan's still gone. Uncle Vick is at work. I'm alone in his dead parents' house. It's hot enough to melt diamonds outside.
I'm feeling "ghost fingers" again. I know I'm missing the two middle fingers on my left hand. Uncle Vick's Mom blew them off with her twelve gauge shotgun last Thanksgiving. But sometimes, like today, I feel those two fingers aching, and I reach with my right hand to massage the tips, and....they are gone!
Creepy. I'm getting used to it, though. Without Kwan here with me to get high and watch the giant plasma wall TV, I'm feeling even more depressed.
Uncle Vick's mom should never have been allowed to own a gun. We had all been sitting around the holiday table, around a smoldering plate of sliced meat. She claimed she had shot the turkey herself, but the only wild turkeys around here are in liquor stores. We all knew that "meals-on-wheels" annoying girl had brought the meat. But, you didn't argue with Uncle Vick's mom. It's really her fault. All of it.
"Are You Smarter Than A Fifth Grader" is saved on the DVR. I'm debating if I should watch another episode, or if I should check Monster.com to see if I got any job responses, or maybe if I should shave a different geometric sideburn pattern into my "burns." I've got the sharpest "burns" and they go all the way down to my mouth. I've had women and men get turned on by them.
But now, I'm alone...and my missing fingertips itch, and Labor Day is only one week off. I figure if I can find the twelve gauge...
Irv
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