They Call Me, The Sharkalator

Well, It's Like I Have A Gps Inside Me," I Told Them. "one Of The Talking Ones. I Tell It Where I Want To Go, And It Tells Me, Go Twenty Miles, Turn Left, Take Exit Ninety-fourm And So One. It Can Be Pretty Bossy, Frankly. Their Eyes Widened. "really?" Said One. No You Idiot," I Said In Disgust. "i Don't Know How It Works. I Just Know It Has An Unfailing Ability To Point Me In The Opposite Direction Of A Bunch Of Boneheads.

She Didn't Flirt With Him, But They Hung Out Together A Lot, And Every Time I Saw Their Heads Bent Over A Computer Screen Or Map, It Made My Stomach Clench. And My Teeth. And My Fists.

Just Because Life Is Hard, And Always Ends In A Bad Way, Doesn't Mean That All Stories Have To, Even If That's What They Tell Us In School And In The New York Times Review. In Fact, It's A Good Thing That Stories Are As Different As We Are, One From Another.

Okay, That So Did Me In. Mr. Rock Being All Emotional? Expressing His Feelings?" P. 12

Yes, Max, You Are Going To Die. Just Like Everybody Else. Thank You, Confucious.