The last gasp

The herculean task staring down at me right now is a story about a green mango. And I’m doing my best to ignore it, which is really how I deal with things that take too much of my daylight. But the other reason why I haven’t got around to the story is because I’ve had a bad start today. The universe is playing a dirty card.
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Letters from class

You know how you come home in the evening from a long matatu ride and you need to pee? The way you head straight to the john, sometimes even with your bag still around your shoulder? The way you tower over the toilet bowl, unzip, and piss gushes out of you like a hose (hehe, hose), and then you wonder whether this is another type of orgasm?

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