Archive for the ‘Sara Genge’ Category
Dear Diary I
Tuesday, May 1st, 2007
Dear Diary,
I caught a little god today running through the back yard and I grabbed it by the foot and I swung it against a rock and its skull cracked, but Momma saw me and wouldn’t let me eat its brains because they fetch 5000 calories in the swindler’s market, she said.
She tried to swap me my little god for a chocolate bar but chocolate is for babies and I said no. Fine, she says, two chocolates, and I said three and then she smacked me on the head and took my little god! It’s not fair. I hate her! I’ll hate her forever! I hate the swindler’s market and I’m never going to talk to her again, ever.
Kinky678
Monday, April 16th, 2007
“This is naughty,” Kinky678 linked me to a porn web page, “this is naughtier, and this is horrible.” With each chat ping, another naked woman materialized in my kitchen.
“Whoa there,” I said, pissed that she hadn’t asked if I found porn acceptable. The pay per view holograms began to cajole me for money. I erased them with a sigh.
I’d only met her a couple of weeks ago, and she teased incessantly, but I kept coming back for more. She had sass, and made wry comments about my genitals (which she hadn’t seen) as other women comment on clothes. She kept sending me pictures of herself, a foot, a wrist, a fluorescent tattooed navel. Nothing that would help me recognize her if I met her on the street, but enough to set my mind aflame. She insisted I call her Kinky.
“Let’s meet in person,” I asked again. She laughed me off.
“Are you sure this girl is cool?” asked Joanna at lunch-break. “She could be a drug dealer, or a minor. Have you thought of that?”
I winced. Kinky did sound young sometimes and I had considered that possibility, but I hadn’t asked because I didn’t really want to know. I was smitten. I looked imploringly at Joanna, but she glared back.
“Promise me you’ll ask her age. And don’t have another off-color conversation until you know she’s legal.”
I promised. Joanna was right. I wondered if I wasn’t already in trouble.
When I got home, I popped the question.
“16,” she answered.
Damn. I hesitated on the verge of continuing the conversation. No, I couldn’t. I wondered if, deep down, I hadn’t known all along. I hated myself for it.
“Nice talking to you, Kinky, but you need to find someone your own age.” She wouldn’t like this. The screen flickered and I wondered if something was wrong with the computer. Then Kinky’s personalized chat slides disappeared and were replaced by a message:
Attention:
Kinky678 is a program operating under Anti-Minor Abuse Law 278. You have not committed a crime. No charges will be brought against you. In accordance with New Jersey citizen privacy laws, Kinky678 is an artificial persona. There were no human operatives monitoring your conversations.
I stared at the screen. I already missed her. I thought for a while, and then I bought the latest dating software. I couldn’t have Kinky, but her older sisters were fair game.