Peas

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Whenever I eat School Days early variety peas, my mind wanders back to when I played football at Bard Military Academy.

Pushups in the rain.  Coach above me grinding his boot into my back.  My face plunging headfirst into a puddle. I cannot feel my toes. Fans trickling in with umbrellas. Mother and Stepfather (Stepfather with a scowl on his face because I always disappoint him) in their familiar place in the bleachers. I hope they don’t ask me about my grades. I’m flunking trigonometry. I’m also dating a girl who organizes workers — “Wobblies.” I’m in love with an anarchist! Sounds like a blues song. Probably not a good time to tell them I listen to jazz music. “We send you to this institution, and this is how you repay us? By carrying on with socialists? Would you like it if we committed you to an insane asylum?” Yes, let me go to an insane asylum. I don’t want you to wake up one morning with a screw driver in your ear.

School Days early variety peas. They really take you back!

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