Page 118 of Seven Days in June

EVA:Cowering in a corner.

SHANE:WHY? You okay? What’s wrong?

EVA:I’m in mortal terror. Aunt Da’s house is so charming. But it’s been in her family since the 1880s. It’s OLD, with water bugs, and there’s a huge one on my bed.

SHANE:Huge, like what?

EVA:LIKE CHRIS CHRISTIE OKAY? LIKE UNCLE PHIL. HUGE.

SHANE:Lol. You’re in the South, right? Lean into it. Lure him into a mason jar, deposit him under the shade of a mighty magnolia tree, pour him a mint julep, and skedaddle.

EVA:I saw Aunt Da smush one with her thumb. Right on her kitchen counter. It crunched like it had BONES, Shane. And I crumbled. You know, I feel such a kinship with Aunt Da. But when she did that, it hit me…like, wowww lady, we’re from different worlds. SORRY, GOTTA GO, IT’S MOVING!!!

A day later…

Today, 2:40 PM

SHANE:Did the water bug eat you?

EVA:Yes, I’m texting from his larynx. What are you doing?

SHANE:Wondering how your head’s doing in that humidity.

EVA:Truthfully? I’m in ferocious pain, rn. Still in bed.

SHANE:Fuck. Is there anything I can do to help from here? They got Seamless on the bayou?

EVA:Too nauseous to eat. You know what’d help? If you told me a story. An original one. Actually, no, I want a poem.

SHANE:You’re v. demanding. Hmm. I’m a terrible poet, but I got you. Hold on.

SHANE:.….

SHANE:.…

SHANE:There once was a girl named Eva

I liked her the moment I see’d her

Wish I could live in her dimple

If only life were that simple

I was a fool to ever leave her

There once was a boy named Shane

Who’d kill to ease her pain

If only he could change the past

If only this poem didn’t suck ass

But Eva has only herself to blame

EVA:This is my favorite poem of all time.

SHANE:It could’ve been better, but nothing rhymes with Genevieve.

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