I Really Don’t Want to Punch You In the Face

Ethan Yarbrough Writes

Punch in the faceMy ears stick out from the side of my head. Protrude. I cannot watch Dumbo or see Dopey of Seven Dwarves fame without a cringe and a furtive scan of the room to see who else is suddenly recognizing the resemblance. My ears, when I was in the ninth grade, made me a favorite target on the school bus. The cruel and the powerful passed their time on the bus sitting behind me and snapping my ears with their fingers, their pens, rubber bands, rulers. I was skinny and awkward and, although I was taller than most of them, I was terrified. I could endure the ear snapping, I thought, because I could think ahead to the total destruction that would befall me if I retaliated. I was smart enough to know that’s what they wanted me to do, but not smart enough to think of any other way out of it.


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