Everyone Expects Me to Visit
Half an apple wrapped in foil, peanut butter stuck to the wrong thing. The other half is somewhere else. Not a sibling’s lunch. Not my mom’s mouth.
To show us difference in perception, our teacher asks those of us who have light brown hair to stand up. He calls me and another girl to the front of the room. My hair is much lighter.
Later, fluid runs out of a boy’s mouth, which is very near the sidewalk. He is twitching, and I don’t know what to do, and the other girl runs back to the school, and I stand there. I am not holding my glockenspiel. That is another time on the same spot.
I go to religion class that night, and when I come home I find out about vegetables.
It sounds mean to say that. It sounds like a joke.
Now I get nervous when I notice brown leaves on a tree in summer.