For a little over a week, I’ve been counting down until March 2nd, a Wednesday. On February 23rd, I hastily wrote a short story which I planned on submitting to a club’s literary magazine. However, the train got somewhat derailed. That last Tuesday in February, I sat down and in forty minutes, gave birth to a story masked with a number of sexual innuendo’s that I didn’t originally catch. After reviewing the feedback I was given and pondering on advice, I decided to submit the story to my college’s student-run newspaper. On March 2nd, the issue in which my story was featured in was printed and left around campus, giving me the opportunity to pick up several copies (One for myself to frame, one for my mom [who shouldn’t be reading what I wrote – honestly. Her heart couldn’t take it. You’ll see what I mean shortly.], one for me to actually read, and a few extra to hand out as party favors or birthday gifts.).
The day finally came and went, but not without me talking about the elephant in the room; the elephant in the room being what it is solely due to a number of lines that my friends and I all raised eyebrows to. With that, I give you the edited final copy of a story near and dear to my heart: