Fiction | December 01, 1991
Knock, Knock, Leave Me Alone
Paul S. Brownfield
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“There was a time in my life when I was addicted to non-profit orgainizations,” Evie confessed, gazing at her audience. There were plates of nachos at some of the tables, people digging in. It made her feel like the exhibitionist in the family, or TV, something you watched while you ate. “I canvassed for everybody–Amnesty International, Greenpeace, Earth First, Pluto Second. I can tell you about my problem now, but that’s only because I’m better. I can say, ‘Hello, my name is Evelyn Singer and I…I…I want you to sign my petition.’ I’m not fully recovered, I still collect signatures. Not for any specific cause, I just collect them. I still protest against things, but little things. Like the other day, I saw my boyfriend Ray throwing out half a banana and I screamed, ‘Save the fruit! Save the Fruit!'”
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