Friday Fiction

I like your style, kid. 

Don’t call me that. I hate kids.

No, but I do. Like your style, I mean. You just stand here every day and make such a dignified protest.

Maybe if I were to adopt your style, things might move along faster. Daddy says you look through them when you look them in the eye.

Whatever about our different modus operandi, we’re both fucked. 

I know. I’m going backwards just by standing still and you’re running away to stay standing.

Published by Páraig

Changing my mind, one thought at at a time. You can too. Garden, bike and writing can be key. Ukan2.

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