“We can’t get nothin’ tomorra.” By Sasha at her kitchen table

Tuesday November 14, 2017
11:36pm
5 minutes
Grapes of Wrath
John Steinbeck

It’s just after the first bell and I’m shredding confidential documents. Stephen is meeting with Gunther Cyr, who may or may not have stolen chemical compounds from the Chemistry Lab for drug experimentation. I’m doing my best not to listen but I can’t help it, Stephen has a commanding baritone. He is mostly an excellent principle. He is definitely much, much better than Sheldon Halitosis. I’m good at not reading confidential documents. I am not quite as good at not listening to confidential conversations. I do not listen with my eyes, like so many women I know. I listen with my ears and my ears alone. It’s why I don’t wear earrings and it’s why my ear holes (all six of them) have closed up.

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