This is a short piece of fiction inspired by a very poignant moment of reality.
God, I love Leila.
Sounds like she is feeding the dogs right now. Jesus, those tits are amazing.
They are talking about ebola on the radio. I’ve been feeling feverish lately. I need to get that checked out. Ebola….that sounds funny.
Leila wanted to go get a”falafel” earlier. I had no idea what she was talking about. “Middle Eastern food,” she says. I wanted a Cuban sandwich.
The dogs are barking. Neighbor is fussing around in her backyard. I wonder if she knows I’m famous?
Puma puntu…or is it Punku? I just know that it fascinates me. Wow. How’d they do that?
“You’re a lot to handle…sometimes I just give up. But I’m all you have. You don’t have anybody else in your life.” Leila told me this earlier. She’s probably right. I need to call my manager about that autograph session later this week.
I do not think Mr 50/50 is born or conceived yet. God, I love Leila….her ass is amazing. Yummy.
I would love to be the hitting coach of the Oakland A’s. I love Oakland; the fans made me feel wanted again at the reunion.
Leila is cooking something. God, I love her. Wow. I made my Major League debut a year before she was born.
I think I need to clean my guns. I was the first man to achieve 40/40…perhaps I can be the first man to clean 4 guns at one time…..