September is Lucy and Ricky exiting blithely through the kitchen, blowing kisses to the great indoors. October is Fred and Ethel rapping on the front door, jangling the dead bolt, shouting neighborly obscenities.
September is blah blah blah with a light vinaigrette. October is tartar sauce from an English pub.
September is when I get the combo but I don't want a drink and the guy feels bad so he gives me an extra large tap water with a straw. October is pretty much the same.
My name is Nasreen. I write micro essays, one-liners, and other small things. Most of them were funny at some point, at least to me.