Looking deeply into my brown sun’s the beautiful older cashier asked how I was and replied while starting to cry.
Said maybe you know how far down no return is. I’m defective. Lost in my created cell. Key in my pocket. I just don’t dare.
Sir, the total is nineteen dollars and…
You don’t get, how far, far is. Again with the crashing in to unseen brick walls like kool-aid was mentioned.
Tragedy. Don’t roll your head at me. Disappointment and brimstone flavored tragedy!
I say fine, then pay the annoyed clerk and leave. Grabbing my bag of nonsense, excuses, and blindfolds before I leave.
