There once was a fellow named steve. he had a huge head. he was nine years old. and green. he had stickup hair and bulging eyes. he didnt really look too creepy, but he looked a bit like a chihuahua. but hes pudgy a bit. big cheeks, slender neck, tiny bony shoulders with a rootbeer belly. chicken thin legs
and he had a friend named horace. he was a small guy. nondescript typical seven year old. sandy blonde hair. knobby knees. and elbows.
they were in second grade together. steve was a bit dumb and horace a bit smart.
they were classmates and buddies.
steve lived on 7150 Ronson boulevard and horace lived on 6820 Greenhill drive. they lived around the corner from each other. sort of in a residential near downtown area.
they liked bugs. steve claimed he wanted to study bugs. and horace remarked that it was the science of entomology.
they got along really well. both were fairly softspoken
steve liked beverly cleary books. and horace liked reading instruction manuals.
they hung out at eachothers houses. they watched tv. they camped in the backyard. they pretended they were indiana jones and superman and james bond and aquaman and the hulk and godzilla. they avoided hot lava and made sure not to break their mothers back. they went to the bookmobile near their school every second tuesday of the month.
steves shoelaces were big and floppy bows and horaces were neat and nondescript.
while walking the two blocks, some boys started following them. three boys. older boys.
danny, was sort of the leader though he was really only second in command, but tyler wasnt there so he was the leader.
he had mahogany hair that flirted with his eyelashes, swaying back and forth in front. bucktooth grin from (shhhhhh, whisper) too much thumbsucking. his white socks pulled up a bit past mid-calf.
arthur stuttered but he found that when he chuckled like a goon, it got covered up. thats what he did. he was big for his size. his eyes were twitchy and he rubbed them a lot. his hands were dirty and his eyes were red.
dakota had sharp blue eyes that stared. he never blinked. his hair was never combed. his shirt was always dirty.
arthur and dakota never talked. well they did, but not around danny or tyler. only when spoken to.
steve and horace sped up and scampered into the bookmobile. steve got Ramona B. Quimby by beverly cleary.
horace just read the stickers on the bookmobile and talked with the driver while he waited for steve.
when they got out, a rock was thrown at steve. more like a pebble.
steve and horace kept walking, faster and faster and faster and faster. their legs blurred with the bushes next to them and their shoulders tried to swell. they were just walking fast. not running.
another rock was thrown and they stopped. well, horace stopped and steve stopped shortly after.
horace whipped around and turned to danny and arthur and dakota. he pointed a finger and walked to them.
an inch from their face, he stopped.
"hey!"
he was panting. heaving chest, bobbing head, shaky fingers.
"fuck you"
his eyes only left danny to turn around and walk away with steve.
Post.Script: I wrote this for a friend who felt down. It took around ten minutes. I want your honest opinion. Throw your dishonest opinion in a pile for your friends column or something. Constructive criticism, praise, insults, comments, questions, concerns. et cetera.
