“The next step for you will be to get a literary agent.” My teacher says,
“That’s sweet,” I say, guzzling down the beer he bought me
at ten in the morning, “But I haven’t written anything yet.”
“Oh,” he says, “But you’ve written for my class.
You’ve written at least a memoir already.”
I finish the beer while noticing
he’s barely touched his lemonade
“No,” I say, “I haven’t,”
and get my things to leave.