22 August 2007
Vol. 7, No. 2
nonfiction
The etching on the stall door said "I want to suck your kneecap!!"
There were exclamation points behind kneecap. The writing was in drunken cursive or 5th-grader cursive or drunken 5th-grader cursive. It was difficult to decipher.
I looked down at my knees, bent and peaking out of my khaki shorts. They were grubby and the skin was peeling in half-moon shapes.
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