seventeen

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          Pssssssst.

          Can you even hear me when I whisper to you?

          Probably not.

           Words can’t travel through walls, huh?

          You left home last night in a nice dress, heels on, hair done-up.  Being a loser and stalker with no cable, I, of course, followed you to your destination.  Turns out, you were meeting up with family, right?  You hugged them and all, so, unless they’re absolute strangers, and you’re a part of some odd cult, I’m assuming they were relatives. 

          For about an hour, I sat in my car, reading a book, not quite sure what I was doing outside The Red Lobster on a Saturday afternoon.  Seriously, my obsession has become out of hand.  But then, halfway through the meal, the door opened and you walked over to the side of the restaurant, where no one could see you.  (Well, no one but me, but do I still count as a person?)  

          And then you threw-up.

           Bad shellfish?

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