Norbert arrives in the morning. He rings your buzzer. It is the floral service, you think. It is your thirteenth birthday and exactly three months since you stepped on your pet tarantula. Somebody has remembered.
You are right. It is a man with flowers. You grab the card. You must know who the flowers are from. It is signed Joy and Norbert. Joy is your sister, but you do not remember a Norbert. Is he somebody new in her life? No. He is somebody new in YOUR life. Happy Birthday. Love, Joy. P.S. He likes marshmallow popcorn, drinks skim milk and talks in his sleep. He'll be perfect for you.
You are going to kill her. You are going to kill Joy. You are going to take your pick-up truck and drive it right through her house. Over the conversation pit in her living room. Over her.
"Hi, I'm Norbert," he says. "Happy Birthday. The flowers are for you."
Story continues. Printed on Recycled Paper.