Isaiah Grant
The Corsair
I like a girl named Paris; she is one of the most popular people on Earth. I read about her in books and sometimes see her on television. She likes me too and hopes that one day, I would fly across the Atlantic to come visit her. If I do come overseas, Paris would grab hold of my hand and drag me on long walks along broad streets, treat me to coffee and gossip at cafes, drag me to see Leonardo’s artwork inside a triangle, and last but not least, soothe me by whispering in my ear an annoying but sexy language. The only thing that I’m asking from Paris is we caress and kiss each other atop a tower the shape of an A. Ooh-la-la! What fellow doesn’t want to taste that honey?!
A girl who I call “Ammy” beckons; she’s jealous of my affair with Paris and wants me to come to where she’s at. She could allow a bloke to do whatever he wants, such as smoke marijuana. She would offer me brownies, but I would refuse, for I’m a drug-free fellow who’s cautious about trying the food. When I tell her I want to go back to the United States, she takes me on a bike ride over canals. When she sees a red light, she suddenly stops and takes away my virginity. Ammy’s cool and all, but she has to be the most free-spirited person that I’ve ever seen. When I’m back in the States, I might think “highly” of her.
I’m a shy, semi-geeky student who usually has his nose in a book. I’m an easygoing gentleman but I don’t have a girlfriend or friends. When I’m in a room with crowded people, I like to have my own space and observe other people like I’m watching a TV show or movie. Any broad overseas, including Paris and Ammy, are willing to become friends with me. They want me to come. They want me to come overseas so they could get to know me.