Your grimace, your eyes water and your cheeks disappear as
your lips purse into a tight O. But then you have another, enjoying the crunchy
sounds. At night my mother makes me drink castor oil, which she says tastes
better than a watermelon . Today, I stand before a stack of watermelons each
$1.59. It was large and juicy, almost dark red in the center. The
smell reminded me of late summer afternoons. I entered Walmart. The
doors was one of these doors where you'd step on the pad and the door would
slide open. And this door was almost pitching a fit. It was jerking back and
fourth not closing or opening all the way. And my feeling about that is that
somebody else would look at that and say ''oh, that door has the hiccups.''
Whereas a little kid would walk up to that door and might very well shrink away
from even going near it. And say ''It wants to eat me , it's alive!''
