Van Morrison Told me There’d be Days Like These

Previously, on A Young American…

To start at the beginning, go here.

I had a problem that few sex addicts had. The receiving end of my sexual encounters had to enjoy it. I guess I could mark “rapist” off my checklist of things I was afraid of becoming. But it also amounted to a dilemma, seeing as I was done with relationships. It was hard enough dealing with those, and eventually they would end.

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A Taste of Wild Honey

Previously, on A Young American…

To start at the beginning, go here.

I convinced Cherry to come to my place for our next gathering. “I made a pretty good impression on you then?” She asked.

“You passed the test.” She left that night and I let another dream overtake me in the hotel room. I’m on the run from a group of girls; all of them I know. Britney, Barbara, Tiffany, Theresa, Janis, and a slew of others that I’ve seen in passing chase me like spiders. I’m running uphill and out of energy. I look up and the moon’s broken. Pieces of it fall in my path. I’m constantly jumping and dodging parts, until the women catch up with me, dragging me to the ground. I pray they just want an orgy, but that isn’t the case. They slam me against a cross that they stab in the ground. After tying me up, I watch them pull out some rotten fruit, which they proceed to pelt me with.

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Haven’t Lost those Awkward Teenage Blues

Previously, on A Young American…

To start at the beginning, go here.

Sleeping in the sky is strangely relaxing, until being awakened by a turbulent decent. I took a cab back into the city upon landing. The noise of the traffic and the people caught me off guard for a moment. When I saw the buildings and the crowds and the horns, I realized how much I missed it, until the cabby dropped me off at Barbara’s place. My heart skipped a beat with every step, and I texted Charlie to let him know I might need help moving back to my apartment in Jersey.

I left my stomach in the lobby when I walked on the elevator. The doors swung open and there was no sign of life inside, just the fresh scent of Barbara’s shampoo smacking me in the face so hard I almost hit the deck. She was kind enough to leave the rest of my things in two trash bags. I grabbed them and headed for the door, before checking the fridge for a beverage. When I did I found a folded note taped to a Coke bottle. It was typed, of course:

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I Don’t Wanna Grow up

“How the hell did I get here so soon?” I thought, as I sat in the hospital waiting room, blood seeping into my best clothes. I looked down and at this point, I stopped caring about what color my pants were supposed to be. Good thing I was planning to upgrade my wardrobe anyway. My neck had three deep, deep cuts along its side. Wild animals in the midwest, I tell ya. Can’t ever think you’re safe.

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Keep a Close Watch on this Heart of Mine

Previously, on A Young American…

To start at the beginning, go here.

We played a few rounds of glass chess while little Wendy played cards. “What is that, anyway?”  Theresa asked, nodding at my drink.

“It’s an Italian Soda, mixed with a little Orange and Cherry flavor. You want to try some?”  She nodded and I gave her the rest of my cup.

“Wow.” She said, “That’s very sweet.”  Wendy looked up sharply at her mother, “No, I’m not talking to you.” She said, bending down and picking her up.

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