Issue #4: Pages 17 & 18

A man with simple, sloppy tattoos running up and down his arms and crawling around his neck was standing in the backyard next to a grill. He had a spatula in his hand. The neighbor's dad was talking and laughing and drinking with him. Smoke came out of the sides of the closed lid and the smell of charcoal and hamburger was everywhere. My neighbor friend and I hung around like starving dongs with sad eyes