Deardra Strikes Back

I abandoned the dugout, and my life of crime. I buckled down in school and went from a lazy B to an A. I was a Honor Student, and graduated in the top of my class. I went on to college, again graduating in the top 10% of my class.

Although it’s now been 41 years, Deardra has never been completely out of my mind. I have managed to push her back far enough that sometimes a whole week goes by without my thinking of her.

My parents wanted to sell the thirty acres of mesquite brambles, but I managed to talk them out of it. Then my dad died, and my stupid mother decided leasing was not the same as selling. So she leased the land to an oil field company.

Here I sit, in Washington, DC, reading my stupid mother’s letter, telling me that a road grader was cutting a road to the well site, and it’s front wheel fell into a big hole in the ground. The sheriff is investigating

The door to the Oval office opens, and Wilber Diehl, sticks his head in and says “Mr. President, your limo is waiting.”

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