TO: HipsterRacist@yahoo.com FROM: YogaAss@hotmail.com

Hipster, sitting at his desk, is going through his email. All of a sudden, a familiar name pops up. Millions of thoughts rush through his brain.

Is she going to tell him about the baby? Is it even his? Is it a boy or a girl? It would be about two years old now. Is she going to come clean? Does she want to meet? Did she break up with her boyfriend?

Hipster pauses, wipes a bead of sweat from his brow.

Maybe she wants child support. Maybe her boyfriend figured out it wasn’t his. Has she been thinking about him?

Anticipation. Dread. Joy. Elation. Fear. Happiness. Sadness. Anger. Confusion.

Hipster clicks the email.

“Hi Hipster, how are you? Remember that project we worked on a long time ago? Well I’m having some issues, can you help? ktnks bye … Dancer.”

ripped-heart

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