T-shirt. Her legs were hidden by a pair of black jeans that seemed to have been painted on. I heard giggling again. ‘Um, hello,’ she said, ‘rem...mber I am here to check out your writing? After you can oogle me better. Okay?’ And again she giggled. I quickly grabbed the latest spiral notebook I had begun to fill with my gibberish. I sat down next to her and handed it to her and said, ‘Remember these are supposed to be songs, songs I started writing as a sophomore in high school. We had a band. Stansfield was on the beach with his secretary, Georgia Hall. Ms. Hall was a brunette with nice cans and a posterior that didn’t look bad, either. Sabrina and I were looking through binoculars at the festivities on the beach, separate binocs. Presently, Stansfield was doing his best imitation of a man about to bury the hatchet, so to speak. Only his hatchet was on the short side. I’m not one to compare, but I can see why his wife preferred the axe in my pants to the hatchet in his. Stansfield. More

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