the grocery store reeked of cleaning fluids…as grocery stores do at 3 in the morning…Hostess Ding-Dongs take up the middle of the aisle…a pimple-faced kid text into the night…

over on 7 bags of chips being stocked…marked for freshness…always check the date…things go stale real easily in America…real easily…

an old man talking to himself at the magazine rack…,Julia Roberts $250 million divorce…fuck her, he chimed, She ain’t made nothin’ good since that Pretty Woman picture show…fuckin’ whore…

and me…looking for laxatives to get me out of this plugged-up constantly constipated American dream…always looking…

that’s all i ask…

just one flush…

Published by: dmseay

The writing is based on my surroundings and what I've been surrounded by. This language is coarse and politically incorrect; which I make no apologies for. These characters are not nice and to use any other dialogue would be disingenuine. That being said, I choose to roll the dice. dm seay

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