Fiction

It was the summer after his freshman year at college. Luke Delacroix was back in his well-to-do suburban neighborhood; the kind of area where people believe in the American Dream and complain about their property taxes. Streets were lined with towering trees, forming an emerald ceiling, well maintained pools waited behind pristine fences, and there were spacious lawns that absolutely nobody used. Sitting in the middle of one such lawn, was a large white house. The owners would say that they were middle class, but the manicured lawn and 3 car garage both spoke of wealth. Inside the the marble-covered kitchen of his gigantic house just past noon, dressed in a tank (Suns Out, Guns Out), and lose hanging athletic shorts hinted at an ass you actually could bounce a quarter off, was Luke Delacoix. …

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