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I was lying down the barren bermuda grass with a triple-bent fork in my crotch talking about the Anahaw plant. That was a patch of land about six square meters. We used to wrestle and waste each other there, my cousins and I… Would you stay or would you not? Wait… consider that you were my childhood friend who used to cower away because I wanted to sing Christmas carols to neighbors?

Yes, you will leave me to die like a lunatic feast to blood-hungry-non-existent-malaria-infested mosquitoes.

My last thought was our cousin bleeding to death with his foot-long gash on his shin; wrestling with me to no avail.

Originally published on Friendster, 08 April 2007

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