After Burger King, we walked over to the Wal-E-Mart. Hendrix ducked off to the bathroom to take a shit, and I went to the jewelry counter. I had pushed an extra five hundred bucks’ worth of weed to save up for Monroe’s present. She was absolutely not the jewelry type, but I kept coming back to the diamond rings. Eighteen. Twenty-five. What did age matter? I loved her. More than anything in this world, and I just wanted to know that no matter what, she would always be mine.
