Numero tres!
It was the day of Christmas Eve when I next saw Harry. Dressed in all black with his viking mustache, he was the most handsome hed ever looked.I was going house to house caroling weird songs that Grammy Bertha made up, because she tought of christmas also as the "Devils work," and god would hate that we were celebrating his death, but I assured her tht he was ok with it, and that I emailed him personally and he said its all good homes. She finally gave up and for the first time let us eat the week of Christmas.
Harry was dashing as always even with his herpes on his lips and the dandruff on his head. I distinctly remember his crew cut pants, how they fit hit body so divine it made me wish I was inside them. I also remember the pipe that hung from his which mouth made him look like my father. My father was the only man I'd ever loved who'd promise to take me to Barbados. Which was my dream vacation spot with its obvious perks of hot sun and hot men.
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