The Complete Lockpick Pornography
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
He says. I look around. “Hey,” I say to David. “Run over and take a look at that street sign. ” In the car I sit in the back with David. I tell Richard how to get to Mrs. Hubert’s neighbor- 119 hood. I straighten my dress and pull my seatbelt on. David isn’t crying anymore, but he’s staring out the window. “Hey, have you got the Internet? ” I say, and David nods without looking at me. “There’s a book you can download off the Internet called The MIT Guide to Picking Locks,” I say. I have my lockpick set in hand, and I reach out to place it in his hand.
You need the film that says Polaroid on the package. ” The Polaroid film is mostly stuck in my underwear, but one of the packages has got partway down my jeans already. I’m still smiling, though. “Ok,” I tell her. “Is it okay if I leave that film with you, then? I’m not even sure where I got it. ” She nods, and I’m gone, stopping just outside the door of the drug store to shake the film out of my pant leg. I pick it up off the ground and jog to Richard’s car. “What do you need a camera for? ” he says. “I thought you were buying condoms?
You are a girl,” I say. “You’ve got tits and a vagina and whatever that is in your pants isn’t going to come on me, or in me. It’s fake. ” Her face falls a little, but then it goes hard. She stares at me in silence. “I know that gender is a construction,” I say, and I tap my temple. “Right here I know that you’re as much a man as you are a woman, but knowing something is different from knowing something. ” “You know what I think? ” she says. “I think that if it wasn’t born with a cock, you won’t fuck it.
He’s wearing a button up shirt and a pair of dark pants. “I’ve got work in a half hour,” Richard says. “Michelle might be stopping by with the books in a bit, and I think she said Alex went to school. ” I take a sip of the coffee. “I’ll watch TV for a while, maybe,” I say. Richard leaves, and Dr. Verge is still talking on the television. I walk to the front door and pull my boots on. I sit in front of the television and I wait for him to say “family” one more time. I won’t have to wait long. When he says it, I’m going to put my boot through his face.
Even on mute I can’t stand it. It feels good to smash the TV, though. I feel like I’m participating in the political system. The candidate’s head vanishes in a shower of glass and noise, and I stand there wondering why I let my knowledge that violence only makes things worse prevent me from being violent. It’s noon. Before he left, Chris made me promise to be gone before his boyfriend comes home at six. That means I have six hours to calm down, call Richard, and convince him to drive me into a straight neighborhood so we can steal a replacement TV.