20 years since highschool. I'm not sure if this is a surreal feeling or something similar to dread. I figure it will be a strange feeling of deja-vu when the semi-familiar faces start milling about. It would be nice if it wasn't 100 degrees out. Nothing like sweat to greet an old friend. I'm thinking of telling each person a different version of my history (all fake)... but I'll probably revert to the same goofy introvert I was in high school back in the 80's. The difference here might be beer: the ultimate equalizer. Whatever the outcome, I'll have pictures.

We like our metal heavy and our Marlboro's light...
Drug of choice: Whattaya got?
Music of choice: Harvester of sorrow, language of the mad.
Freaks alllllll week.

Appropriate sparks are flying: Queue the power ballad!

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Anderson Wake

I wrote this little story a couple years ago and published it in a collection called Down the Psycho Path. Through an odd set of circumstanc...