The fruit of my ninety-minute timed writing exercise of 12/5/10. It’s funny in a very mean-spirited kind of way. Sorry in advance.
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“And what do you want to be when you grow up, Michaela?” Nancy Glee held the microphone close to the little nine year old’s mouth.
“I want to be a nurse.”
Nancy made a face. “You have to be willing to clean up people’s piss and poop if you want to be a nurse. I hope you’re up for that.” She moved to the next child in the row. “And how about you, Christian?”
“I want to be a professional soccer player.” Continue reading
