Dear, you,
Yes, you, the guy that keeps revving his engine at 9:30 at night.
Yes, you, the people that can't seem to throw their trash all of the way into the dumpster. Or worse try and fail without picking up the remains.
Yes, even you annoying coworkers that can't park their car in between the lines.
Hate is a strong word, I guess I don't hate you. I just want you to stop. Please.
And to all of you that I didn't name, you know who you are.
You will forever do your thing,
the clicking,
the talking,
the music,
so on
and on
and
on.
About the Creator
Rambler's Society
Hello everyone! I write fictional surreal stories and poems. I love writing and I hope that you enjoy reading what I've to offer. I have plenty more written down on my website so I'd love it if you'd go check it out!
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Disarmament
They say there's no atheism in the foxhole. While I wasn't currently neck-deep in a river of soft sediment, I was still praying to whoever would listen. Why am I doing this again? I would ponder while staring at the device that in no less than a minute could be my undoing. I scanned each and every variable panel and commonplace button as I watched the bright red L.E.D ticker countdown. No wires to cut, no code to put in, there was only one way to stop this infernal machine, and that incurred perfect timing.
By James U. Rizzi3 days ago in Fiction
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