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I’m walking around Chicago, feeling like a piece of shit.
It’s winter.
There are many people out.
I pass an older homeless man and he is dressed almost exactly like me.
Almost exactly.
I want to stop him and grab his shoulders and say, “So I make it past 30 then?”
But he walks by me.
Eye contact is bad I think.
I don’t make eye contact with any girls because I don’t want to ruin their night and make them feel bad.
I make eye contact with some guys because sometimes I just feel angry.
Eye contact is bad I think.
At a stoplight, I wait to cross and there are two men next to me.
They’re holding hands.
I imagine myself as one of them, standing next to me, this dipshit with an ugly face.
Later on, will one say to the other, “Hey did you see that asshole at the stoplight. Why does he live on the same earth as us, with his dipshit-ass ugly face.”
And then the other man will agree in some way, if only in quiet.
- Жанр
- Современная русская и зарубежная проза
- Издание
- Eraserhead Press, 2010
- Язык
- en
- Размер FB2
- 250,9 КБ
- Добавлена