Right around the time Helga had divorced him, tears had
turned a corner. Turned from something
to soothe to outright poison. The first time he was aware of the turn tears
were streaming down the face of the hottest freshman girl in his Intro to
English class, the poor young thing upset that she'd gotten a 'D' on a midterm
and her scholarship might be in jeopardy, and that transfer to UW might fall
apart and so would the courting and marriage to some fine young asshole she
hadn't even met yet. Holland had to
fight his instinct which was to grab such a sad salt-licked creature by the
shoulders and shake the holy bejeezus out of her until one of them had passed
out, Holland likely from close witnessing heaven sent seismic activity, the unregulated
boombaba of her considerably well-proportioned sweater bunnies.
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