An Inexperienced Scholar of Bacchus

I suppose the details of this weekend, without invasive censorship, should finally be unveiled. As for our character, the young Neil was comical, especially when the occasion called for his humor. Neil found that on certain such days he uncovered a delicate balance between pomposity and irony whenever he referred to himself in the third person.

The beginning of my trouble began Friday. I immediately woke up on the dot at 2:37 a.m. and directed myself to the fridge present at my dorm. The distance was the vast length of three feet, or 0.91 meters if you are not North American-centric. I retrieved my beverage to start the day, a hearty neon liquid by the brand of Mountain Slime. Do the Deed!

My roommate then kicked me out after drinking his regretful sludge. Where was a low Neil Feins to go on a sunny day like this? It must come as no surprise to you, dear reader, that my expansive list of friends (by my count four) were always there for me. Christina, a biology major on paper yet an English major by all other means, invited me to attend a party with her. Christina was one desperate for friends, I might add.

“Please, Christina! Chrissy with a T! C-dog! Friend of my friends! I’ve never been to an actual casual party before like this!” Neil pleaded to his friend, who in turn shook her head.

“No. I told you this is only a party for close friends to my brother. You were the dick that bailed on him when he needed a bio partner.” Christina stabbed her words into Neil’s begging heart.

“Please Christina!” Neil complained. “I am so desperate to make new friends! My roommate keeps on stealing everything I have in the fridge.”

“Not my problem.”

“Please, please, please.” Neil was practically on his hands and knees.

“I’m saying no.” Christina remained resolute.

“Please? I can reimburse any damages.”

“Fine,” Christina gave in, if for nothing else, to avoid any more of Neil’s voice, who in turn celebrated in the best way he could: he offered his palm, hoping Christina would slap it back in that fashion that close friends would often do. Yet Christina parted without a word or mere acknowledgement, leaving Neil hanging with an upheld hand. Truly the best of friends.

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Vijay Johnson-Tanco

Vijay Johnson-Tanco is both a freelance author and a student at University of Oregon. He has earned an award for his prowess in language arts, and has previously published his short stories “A Nice Dinner” and “The Fall of a Butterfly” in The Literary Yard, an online journal. Among his studies, he has encountered the work of H.P. Lovecraft, one of the primary influences of science fiction media and literature of the twentieth century, and has deeply admired such stories as “Dagon,” “The Alchemist,” and “The Mountains of Madness.”

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