(no subject)
Today a woman walked by me and she smelled like my fifth grade teacher. I liked my fifth grade teacher, but I got to thinking of this one time when I was sitting in front of her on the carpet and she was reading the book "Hatchet", which is one of my favorite childhood stories, yet I couldn't pay attention to the words she was saying because she had a giant booger wedged beneath her fake nail. It was bloody and slimey and I just stared at it for the entire hour, straight at it. I remember feeling the urge to gag a little bit, or raise my hand and tell her, or hit the kid next to me and tell him, to laugh about how funny the whole thing was. But, I couldn't...I could only stare. After lunch I noticed it was gone and felt some sort of vexed relief and laughed at the image of it falling and getting mixed into her gaucamole and then I erased it out of my mind, seemingly. Until today when that woman wafted passed me while I was sitting waiting for the bus.