Wild Card

by Elsie Silver

For the ones who were told their dreams were too dreamy but who went on to make them come true anyway. And for my awful high school English teacher, Mr. C, who looked me in the eye at sixteen years old and told me I’d never be a good writer. Thanks for the motivation.

To the outside observer, it would appear that I’m staring at the guy I showed up here with. But they would be wrong. I’m staring at his dad.

All I know is that the first thing that comes to mind is, If I live, I’m coming after you.