there is little, if any, reason left to write
“Conclusion, ultimately, should reflect on what was learned or changed.”
but, was anything?
I stood up in the middle of this café (the one I’m in now), threw down my coffee (shattered the cup, I hate porcelain anyway, and)
shouted I HATE YOU at a group of casual passerby-girls
they had a dog and tight little tee shirts, gold earrings and short skirts. they struck me as the kind of girls who said they played guitar but only knew C and G, if even.
it was Sunday, I was peeling an orange and shouting I HATE YOU at flawless, satiated girls
nobody asked me to leave though, they just asked me to move outside to the patio
(I did. it was cold, but good)
maturity was gained, Learned
memory was discovered, Changed
“Conclusion, ultimately, should reflect on what was learned or changed.”
that was what my English teacher had said. she said it happened not only in writing but in life
but instead of writing an autobiographical story (I didn’t even make effort to turn the assignment in),
amidst those short, ‘corto’ shots of espresso cracked and spilled over white ceramic, my orange peel, and so much newspaper for me to read
I shouted
I HATE YOU