The Homecoming Dance
The QB kissed “Four-Eyes” Amy, but no one understood why. She was fat and dull. But she loved football, and so he loved her. Simple as that.
The QB kissed “Four-Eyes” Amy, but no one understood why. She was fat and dull. But she loved football, and so he loved her. Simple as that.
This year their anniversary fell on Super Bowl Sunday, but she just smiled as she set up the second TV tray, and he knew he’d married well.
“Go Niners! Joey, get me a beer!” Papa cheered. The old man forgot his pills again. Joe nodded and turned on the 1981 game for Papa on DVD.
Chips, dip, crock-pot weenies. 30 seconds of $1 million laughter. Recline chair. Game on!
She sat through the black silence. “Why do you do this to yourself?” I took a long pull on my domestic lager. “Gotta care about something.”
Hut one. Hut two. HUT. The editors drop back to pass. They find contributors in the flat. We throw it. The contributors catch it. Now run!