by Thomas Pluck
“That's right, faggot. Don't look at me. I don't like faggots looking at me. I don't want their faggot eyes on me, faggot.”
Bell rang and he walked like a faggot and held his books like a faggot so I knocked them out of his gay little hands.
I bumped past him as he bent to pick them up. “Fag.”
Last bell. Walked home, played X-Box.
Dad kicked my feet off the coffee table.
“Keep your damn shoes off my furniture, faggot.”
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This first appeared in Shotgun Honey, and was written fro Chuck Wendig's flash fiction challenge. I donated $150 for It Gets Better ($5 for each comment) when it was published.
http://www.shotgunhoney.net/2012/01/faggot-by-thomas-pluck.html
This story has no tags.
Yeah.
Well done. Fave *
Wow.
Good piece, Thomas.
Yes, this is how monsters are created. Nice modern cautionary tale for us all.*
Yep. you got that right.