A safe and beautiful country, so
the positive stereotypes tell us.
Wander deep enough into any large city
park and the garbage bags of cans, rusted
bicycles, and ragged chain-smoking old men
too long weathered tells a different story.
Those poor souls that can’t pressure cook
themselves in corporate Japan get thrown out
faster than day-old French fries. Your life and
time is the oil that lubricates the grinding
machine.
Cultural conformity is the hissing snake that
drives its fangs deep into your dreams and
lets its venom rot away your soul.
Sink low enough below this society’s
waterline and there’s no way you’re
coming up for air.
About the Creator
Steve B Howard
Steve Howard's self-published collection of short stories Satori in the Slip Stream, Something Gaijin This Way Comes, and others were released in 2018. His poetry collection Diet of a Piss Poor Poet was released in 2019.
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More stories from Steve B Howard and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Road to Nowhere
Trigger warnings: Violence, Death. "May the Sun burn your tongue out, woman," Fredrick's father screamed the curse into his mother's ear as their elegant little carriage rumbled along, its polished wood and gilded trim glinting in the torchlight. They had just left the small village of Saffron and were on an unnamed road to the capital for the Royal wedding. Fredrick leaned back in his plush velvet seat to escape into the passing landscape, but across from him sat the servant boy, a scrappy lad named Jack. Jack's eyes held a mixture of awe and fear, the kind that only a commoner could feel in the presence of nobility. Jack looked up and caught Fredrick's gaze, offering him a sad little smile before reaching into his pocket and retrieving a little caramel treat. This candy was no doubt stolen from the kitchen treat cupboard; if he was caught with it, he would be locked in the box as punishment.
By Frank English5 days ago in Fiction
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