The last day I saw her was the same day that Michael Jackson died, so now every year on the anniversary I can't post "I miss yous" on my Facebook page without my new friends thinking I'm a zombie straight out of "Thriller."
All of my shiny new friends, and I didn't even like Michael Jackson.
I casually flipped the switch on the wall to my right, and the over-head spotlights cracked to life, illuminating the generations of dead flies and moths caught in its wide open electric mouth.
Lunch.
I surveyed the sea of red velvet auditorium seats sprawled out before me. As suspected, embedded with dust