my first literary love, and I don't remember a damn thing about them except the warm melancholic certainty that even in the midst of transience and desperation, there can always be joy.
Your reward for laying waste to Boxcar Children books, Matt Christopher sports stories, or Babysitter’s Club novels was this culinary masterpiece served to you in an actual skillet with steam pouring off it. You finished a game of Donkey Kong just in time to scald the roof of your mouth, because while Pizza Hut taught you to read, they did not teach you patience. We were the lords of creation.
Apr 7
at
2:05 PM
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