A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
““What’d you do?”
“Nothing. We got pictures today.”
“What pictures?”
“School pictures.”
“You got them when?”
“Today.”
“No. I mean, when did you take them?”
“I don’t know. A month ago I guess.”
“You didn’t tell me. What did you wear?”
“A yellow shirt.”
“Which one?”
“The dark yellow one.”
“Was it clean?”
“Yeah.”
“Let me see the picture.”
“You’re not going to like it.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see.”
“Are your eyes closed?”
“No.”
“Are you giving the finger?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“You’ll see.”
He digs the pictures, letter-sized, carboard backing, in a plastic sleeve, from his backpack and hands them to me and Good fucking God no. No. No. No. No. This is bad. This is so bad. This is unbelievably bad. This is so unbelievably bad. They’ll take him away now. They’ll take him away for sure. If ever they needed a reason now they have one good God. It’s proof of everyhing. The proof they want.
“Toph, this is bad.”
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