Monday Again
That was so bad, I decided I’d start Monday all over again. After everyone had gone and my sore butt was bandaged yet again, Sol appeared asleep, Todd and Lefty, for all I knew, were having it on in the broom closet, and I was left in peace with the doughnuts and the morning newspaper. And yes, there I was again. I read avidly, preening that I was famous and that Sol and those other pricks were not. Except on page two, written by someone else, there was a picture of me as a gawky fourteen-year-old with my stepfather standing behind me smiling. He was quoted extensively, telling the world about what a difficult child I had been and how I had broken my mother’s heart and health with my thieving, drug use, and blah blah blah. He left out the part about me abusing the neighbor’s
