I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, and by easy I mean a piece of cake, a cake walk, even though the one time I had actually tried to make a cake from scratch, it was not all that easy – in fact, it was one of the hardest things I did during my four years in college – making an orange sponge cake that baked into a hideous color, a color like the left over snack bags in the dollar aisle at Wal-Mart after Halloween, when all of the candy is fake fruit shapes and all of the children are dull-eyed and hungry and make you feel guilty to even be alive since you, lucky you, had a veggie omelet this morning and got enough protein to fill three of these poor children, children whose shoes are so tight that one girl’s parents have to cut the toe away from the sole of her shoe to fit the little foot in so she can go to school where she worries that someone – anyone, really, but especially that snotty girl whose braids are always even – will notice the hole in her shoe.
"One Page Sentence,"
The Tuxedo Archives: Vol. 2013
, Article 18.
Available at: https://scholar.dominican.edu/tuxedolit/vol2013/iss2/18