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She will be sleeping in my bed and I will have the couch. And that could be fine if her asking were worded just a little differently. When I finally moved out I was nineteen and had stayed a year longer than I wanted to. The final straw was her getting a piano. And taking lessons from stella bridger one of my friends who she ended up fucking stella bridger on a second had couch in stella bridger our basement. That damn song she played. That damn song over and over and over. The same keys, the same screw-ups, the same clunked notes, the same the same the same. The fucking my friend. There was that too. When I held his penis out of spite some months later I looked at him while he was sucking my neck and said: ha! You’ve had this thing inside my mother, and he lost it there in my palm, shrunk away from me, out of my room into his car and then away. She slashed his tires and so I had to move out.
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