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May 20, 2003
I left the table, not even bothering to take my half-eaten roll (unbuttered). This was a fine opportunity to finish the comic book I’d borrowed from a classmate without having to read it under my covers with a flashlight late at night. I’d flipped through less than a page of onomatopoeias when a few real-life onomatopoeias flew through the kitchen door.

I heard a slap! and a thud!

I heard my mother SCREECH!

I heard a SLAP! and a $#@!! before covering my ears with colored pages of superhero action, wishing only for the power to hear nothing at all.