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short story writing

Original short story, hovercrafts was an honorable mention in the Write Practice's 2017 Fall  Writing Contest.  Excerpt below. 

I was getting my ears pierced. It was finally happening. Jenny told me not to; she said it so sadly so sheepishly like an earring would be the end of everything. I’m starting to think Jenny doesn’t know shit.

I pulled the white tank top over my head. I spit on a paper towel and scrubbed. The mysterious brown stain was the last thing I wanted with my new earring but I only had the Honda for an hour and a half so I had to get going.

I looked at myself in the mirror of my mom’s 2004 black Honda. I had a growing patch of red hair above my lip. Summer had a way of fucking with my freckles until my skin looked like dried up paint. The rest of my face was alright. I was starting to look like a human being.

It was September, four days before senior year. I wanted the earring before school started. My voice had finally cracked. I was taller. I was turning into someone else, someone who would wear an earring.

The streets smelled like burning wood and grass. I waved my hand out of the window. The fall was here and it was a relief. July was fucking hot. August was boring. September is always like a rocket ship.

I turned on Nelly — the whole reason for the earring in the first place — turned it all the way up until the car thumped. My mom’s Honda was going for a ride.

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