Running into an Old Classmate at the Grocery Store

by E.C. Gannon


Hey, how are you?

Hey, good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Good, how are you?

Well, the only apartment I can afford is in a super sketchy area, so I bought a gun just to be safe, but then I realized that the only person I’d ever have the guts to shoot is myself, so I locked it in the little safe, and then I threw away the key, so now I no longer have any protection against someone who breaks in in the middle of the night looking for a TV or whatever, but I figure it’s probably better to get shot by him than to do it myself, that way at least no one can hate me for being dead. How are you?

I’m good, how are you?

Good, thanks for asking. How are you?


E.C. Gannon's work has appeared in Bullshit Lit, Olit, Oddball Magazine, and elsewhere. Raised in New Hampshire, she’s a graduate of Florida State University and an incoming student at the University of New Mexico.