Candy Graham

Yesterday afternoon someone rang my apartment buzzer. I asked who it was. They responded that they were delivering a package and asked if I could come down and get it. I immediately went into my loathsome roommate's room and asked if he was expecting a package. "No," he said, "but maybe my mother sent me a care package."
"Well, you best go down and get it." I said.
There was no way I was going to go down and retrieve a "package." For all I know someone was just looking to murder a random person. I've seen Law and Order I know that shit happens-- their stories are ripped from the headlines. I thought of my roommate receiving a hatchet through the skull and felt relieved that I wasn't foolish enough to be lured downstairs for a delivery. I imagined the future. I realizedI would feel absolutely no guilt when people told me what happened to my roommate. The sentiment "it should have been me" would never cross my mind. It shouldn't have been me, I don't leave my dirty dishes in the sink. I clean the bathroom, and I don't have a canadian girlfriend constantly here in our apartment, and I pay the bills ontime. In fact, if I had to choose between him or myself being hacked up into pieces inorder to fit into a cardboard box to be shipped to another apartment building, I would choose him everytime. And it's not that I really like life, It's just I'm more worthy of living.


Anonymous said…
i have a big crush on you. LOL.