Guest Blogger: Brad

In first grade there was a kid named Robby.
Robby was gray, straight up gray. His skin was gray.
So I called him Grayboy.

On his birthday Grayboy's mom brought cupcakes for the class.
Grayboy's mom was a white lady and disturbingly ugly.
She was dirty and her hair was mussed.

Now I really liked cupcakes, but imagining her dirt and nicotine stained fingers touching that cupcake batter and frosting made me shudder, and I refused her tiny cakes.

--Brad, 1986