If You Don’t Stop…
I’m Never Coming Back Here

Jason Rimbaud

jasonrimbaud@gmail.com

It was summer, June 2000, when Greg and Mark first met on Lake Walton. Each summer after that, they would join their families for a summer vacation before parting ways for another year.

It was summer, June 2000; Greg and Mark were five years old.

June, 2000

“What are you doing Greg?”

“Nothing, just go back to sleep, sorry.”

“If you keep snuggling me, I’m not going to sleep over here anymore.”

June 2005

“Greg… what are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“It sure doesn’t feel like nothing.”

“Just go back to sleep, Mark.”

“If you keep rubbing up against me, I’m not going to come back here next year.”

June 2010

“Damn it, Greg.”

“What now?”

“If you keep dry humping me when I’m asleep, I’m not coming back here again.”

June 2012

“Jesus Christ, Greg.”

“Yes.”

“If you don’t stop doing that with your mouth under the covers, I’m not coming back here again.”

June 2015

“Oh Jesus, Greg!”

“You like that?”

“If you ever stop attacking me in my sleep, then I’ll never come back here ever again.”