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Michael Malone - Weebly

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"Give it here." Propped against pillows printed with<br />

daisies, her gold hair haloing a heart-shaped face, her<br />

lashes deepening shadows below her blue eyes, Joy<br />

read the smudgy typed sheet. It said, "Want your cherry<br />

busted? Somebody's going to knock you off that bike<br />

one of these nights and take you for a Real ride. How'd<br />

you like a trip around the world? End up with your cunt<br />

in the air, screaming for it like the rest. Smart kike kid."<br />

Joy wrinkled her nose. "Boy. That's really creepy."<br />

She frowned.<br />

"It's sick, isn't it? I ought to do something, shouldn't<br />

I? I mean, suppose somebody really, you know."<br />

Joy shook her head. "No, I don't think so. No.<br />

Forget it. It's just sick."<br />

Polly took the note back, stared at it, folded it.<br />

Then finally she nodded and tore the paper into tiny<br />

squares, which she dropped into Joy's flowered trash<br />

can. "Yeah, sick, I'll say! What does that mean, 'trip<br />

around the world'? Do you know what they mean by<br />

that stuff?"<br />

"No, but I bet it's gross. Just forget it." Sitting up,<br />

Joy crossed her legs under the daisy coverlet. "Now, if

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