"If you want the soda, you have to take photos of me." Sounds easy enough, you think until he starts taking off his clothes. Thirty minutes later you're at home in front of the computer with a chilled Mountain Dew beside you. Though you should be happy, you can't seem to think anymore. The world seems dark and you feel empty inside. How much is innocence worth and is there anyway to get it back?
Was it worth it?
I have raised over $300 participating in quilting bees for the American Quilting Bee Society so I think I deserve at least seven minutes of your time.
Ernest Cline, writer of Ready Player One, shares his newest poem.
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