Tag: david rivard

Laughter is close, even if it’s just the schadenfreude of middle-school girls, their juicy, eye-rolling, malicious glee flying down the street (like a tiny pink slug in a pigeon’s beak), hotting up the air—why pretend you can’t hear? Laughter, the only eternity that’s real. Laughter and its toothy lift off, even when toxic. “Save me”…