bruce

Today was my creative writing final. We all sat around, ate pizza, drank sketchy Bruce-made punch and swapped war stories. Some were true and some were fictive, but all (well, mostly all) were enjoyable. My favorite was a tale (a true one?) about the beauty of roadkill. It was deadly serious. Also loved were a waking dream about a special-ops clown and poem about colored people. Oh how I will miss Conversations with Bruce.