Part of a story I’m working on

Some flash fiction for you (my fav. written paragraph tonight): The red-haired and pimply boy who (obviously) listened to Metallica and Tool was in one of her classes. She learned later about his attic for a bedroom when she would watch him do pushups while listening to heavy metal. His five o’clock shadow was trashy like his black washed out jeans. When he got a new shirt, it was known because its color was so crisp compared to the rest of his faded wardrobe. He wore his new heavy metal t-shirt like his mom didn’t pick it up at a discount store only yesterday. His mama loved him dearly though. She said “dumbass little girls” like Jessica weren’t good enough for him. It was as if Jason’s mother knew the two would end up pregnant in a matter of months.

 

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