I was walking past Shapko & Son Welding last night on the way to buy cigarettes. The Shapkos live next door to their shop. The youngest daughter, Larissa, who at 13 years old is a bit of a tomboy, was fixing the chain of her bike on the driveway. She stopped me.
"Hey Peter."
"Hi," I responded. She knows my name's not Peter.
"D'y'wanna hear my dream?" She asked eagerly.
"Okay."
"Well... I dreamt I had a red plaid shirt with the words 'You Bastard' stenciled on the back. Like a baseball player. Then I accidentally cut my wallet up with scissors."
I laughed.
"Where'r'ya goin'?" she asked.
"To buy smokes at the gas station."
"Will you let me have one when you come back? I'll give you a dollar." Her hands were covered in grease.
"No."
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