A MILLION LITTLE REECE'S PIECES.

An exerpt from the gripping new Memoir* by JeffMauro

The Hondo rattled over the empty street. It was A.M. I knew that from the croissandwich crumbs on my vest and the frosting on my cheek. My watch was gone.
Please hold on just one day. One. Day. Said my Tummy.
The Tummy. It was still there. Good.
The driver? The driver was blurry. FOCUS. FOCUS. There he is. It was my daddy.

We are we going?
TO THE ZOO.
Zoo?
Yes piggy.
Dad was mad.

Sleep coming fast.
I pick at the crumbs on my vest, dip them in the frosting chunks on my cheeck and put them in my mouth. JUST. ONE. BITE
The bite was indeed a bite but not like the biting that was done last night. BITES. DONE. RIGHT.
The fuzz started erasing from my mind like a fudge factory fog that lifts into the horizon. Last night was a reality. Sleep. Dream

ME. Two buckets of rib tips. Cupcakes with egg. cheese. cheese. bacon. I can't feel my toes but I feel it slide down my gullet. Dizzy, things getting hazy again. I need a boost. A lift. Something to make me normal again. Please Dad.
No. Son.

I awake. I was full a minute ago. This moment. I am famished.
I check for more crumbs, frosting, spit laced with last nights turkey sub. All Gone.

I want a sandwich. I want an Enormous Sandwich
I want cavatelli in a vodka sauce. I want to actually do a jackknife into a turtle pool filled with cavatelli in vodka sauce. I Need Salami. A whole salami that the length of a clipper ship. I want to sail my salami in a river of mustard. No Skipper. Not enough for Skipper. Just me and my Salami ship.

Dad, I need to stop by the market.
No Son.
Dad, I need to stop by the market.
No, Son.
Dad, I will crush you.
Yes Son.

White Hen Pantry was bright in terms of light and emotion. Dad watched in the wings as I filled my arms with snowballs, kippered beef steak, dove bars, generic cheetoes, frozen patty melt. not time to reheat.

Dad paid. I ran. Into the car to inhale my oxygen. The frozen patty melt went first. Downed. Cold and hard. Congeled frozen globules of fat melted in my BUSTED mouth.
GONE.

Snowball. Gone. Generic Cheetoes. Gone. Beef Steak. Gone. Dove Bar. Saved. For later.
Content, filled and complete I gazed out the window at the passing limbs and branches of trees I have not seen before.

We ain't going to the Zoo Dad, are we?

No Son. We ain't.

I sat back in my seat, stared back out the window and fell asleep. On my Dove Bar. With Almonds.

This was the first chapter of Jeff's new Memior. More excerpts to follow.

* DISCLAIMER. Despite some editing and name changes, all content in "A MILLION LITTLE REESE'S PIECES" is indeed truth. If you don't believe me, please see the PROOF BELOW to see what the main character USED TO LOOK LIKE. SCROLL DOWN.


AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Jeffrey with Random German Dude. Thats not alcohol
in his hand folks. Thats EggRoll juice.