C12 SLAM

Gregory L. Norris

It was the end. The last time. Zero hour.

Sorry to sound so dramatic, but I am a writer, after all. OK, so it wasn’t that gloomy, but I was this close to walking out of the McMillan room in the campus library, sure that I couldn’t stand another sentence—not one more syllable—from these trust-fund fucks bemoaning the travails of their lives, boo hoo