The ACI “Prairie Bitch”

The following is an excerpt from Part One:

Secretly, we meet again in the caressing seclusion of his cozy-as-kittens vestibule. Tonight’s intriguing topic is library books! When I arrive at our usual rendezvous spot, he poses himself with one knee twisted in front of the other, as if he has to pee. I wonder if he is gearing up for a Shirley Temple-style curtsy following his performance. Holding out a mangled paperback, he fumbles with the curled pages that have come undone from the spine. Then he folds the cover open. His knees are still poised for the curtsy. Pointing to the label, similar to a mommy reading a bedtime story to her preschooler, he proceeds.
“The last time this book was checked out was in twelve, ninety-four!” Then he peeks over to see if I am paying attention. From where I stand, even without my glasses, I can read the name of the library that donated it, printed right on the label. All I can figure is that he is insinuating it is fourteen years past due. He is an absolute joke of a man, and that is aside from his ridiculous penis-shaped haircut.

With Nellie Olson singsong overtones, he whines, “It doesn’t say child molester anywhere on it, or little faggot. It says A, C, I, Li-berry. That means it’s mine, not yours!”