Friday, April 13, 2012
Ma Johnston was a good woman who was always hard on her luck. She raised her son well. She loved Matt and missed the days where he and his friends would hang out at their house. She missed him a lot, especially since he had gone to San Francisco. She put out her trash and waved at Carla, the nice ice-head in the alley. That was Thursday. When Ma Johnston hadn’t come to get the trash by Saturday, Carla went over to her house and found her dead on the kitchen floor.
Matt was done crying. He donated his mother’s clothes to good will. He drank with the bikers across the way, and slept with Carla. What was he doing? In San Francisco he was civilized. He was dating a ballet dancer. But that was over before his mom died. He has left his job to come get her cremated and scatter her ashes across the ocean. He sat around depressed all day. Suddenly the phone began to ring.
He picked up the three girls and Atómiko in the parking lot of a motel. The girls squealed and hugged him, pulling him in all different directions. Matt thought they had certainly grown up well. They got to his house and showered and began to watch MTV.
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