To Those Two . . .

Yes, you, you two.

You must think that I’m stuck up or something.

Or perhaps you should just stop.

I can’t help it if I seem to be watching you out in the public spaces of this miserable town.

(Everybody else does it.)

I’m not that sorry if my determination not to look at you bothers you both either.

It’s not my fault you both look frumpy . . .

Frumpy, old, young couple . . .

Such tragedy.

I’m not going to back down though; I’ve face demons and far worse than

two disgruntled youth.

Yes, although I am young like you.

I’m not like you two at all.

(By the way, disgruntled girl, your disgruntled boyfriend is actually a ghoul,

in case you were wondering what was so great about him:

it’s nothing.

I dated one once . . .)

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