Thursday, March 24, 2016 at Platform 7
from a nofrills receipt
Leda sends me a photo of her vagina and asks if I have the same rose-looking ‘thing’ on mine.
I send her back an image of a desert and tell her there are no flowers blooming here. You don’t use it you lose it. Pft. Everything turns to dust.
She texts back a hands up emoji, praising my perfect timing and accurate representation of whatever my sorry situation is right now.
I text her asking why she’s asking about her rose-thingy and use many ellipses to demonstrate that I have been left hanging and my curiosity is in fact sparked.
She texts back a photo of our matching tattoos and says she wanted to know if she should be worried or if we were fine.
I text Leda saying that I’ll get back to her but if it doesn’t hurt, it’s probably fine?
She texts back asking for a picture of my vagina to confirm that our genes are fine.
I text back a photo of Audrey II from Little Shop of Horrors.