“69 FUCKING DOLLARS” by BLAKE MIDDLETON

I had a day off today.

I was sitting in my closet-sized bedroom scrolling through twitter.

Felt bored.

My girlfriend was at work.

Decided I was going to walk to the restaurant I work at to pick-up a tip-out.

I put on sweatpants and walked outside.

The first thing I noticed was all the trash everywhere.

I walked down the road and saw a shoe on a roof, and that was nice, too.

Saw some more trash.

Saw a punching bag punch in the shape of a person. The person-shaped punching bag was wearing a gorilla mask. It was in the driveway of a cinderblock house with at least a dozen NO TRESPASSING signs.

I saw a house with too many American flags to feel okay thinking about.

The fenced-off retention pond across from the Family Dollar seemed to be a little low.

I crossed the street.

Saw a car coming towards me.

Felt like the car sped up to hit me, but I did a little jog.

And for some reason I thought, “Yee-haw.” Continue reading