SUNDAY

by Luca Pierre

The windshield is only cracked. A little star crack. I'm sure it will grow eventually. They're all still asleep. I moved my car to the overhang in the back where the super usually parks but he goes to his mother's in Connecticut on Sunday's--usually. So I can park there and they haven't figured it out yet. They wouldn't have seen me move it either because they don't get up before noon on Sunday. I tried to take a picture of the crack but I couldn't find my camera. I'll get around to it. I wish MY mother lived in Conn. instead of right here with me. She would say that I live with her and not the other way around. I'm going to C+ now while I can get out. I hope she's there so I can show her my new shoes.