The noise in my ears incrementally gets louder as I turn the volume down. Farther. Is it just my ears adjusting, or is there something terribly wrong with this country? 

I swat belligerently at fruit flies, trying with more and more violent thrusts of frustration to squish them with my hands, to shoo them from the rim of my drink. And yet, they persisted… 

There have been disastrous consequences tonight. A horrible man has been rewarded for being horrible. Again. Inside us all, a tiny cancerous bug creeps up through our stomachs. We have anointed a criminal, and therefore justified and forgiven the worst within each of us. We have swallowed the poison, but will it even kill us when the time is right? Are there even consequences for being horrible?

I am distracted by a fruit fly flying across my computer screen as I try to decipher the red and blue code, the black and white code; there is no room for purple, or gray…

That little Fucker, I say… 

At least there is Live Music to save my life again. 

Oh… wait… 

The other shoe drops, and lands miraculously on top of the upturned corner of the carpet upon which the first shoe had dropped. The second shoe stays there, somehow, suspended, on precipice, precisely on the fence. There is no purple, there is no gray. There is no explanation for why the second shoe should stay suspended like this. Unless the carpet is hot lava… 

My hand swings wildly outward and my fist clenches as fast and tight as it possibly can, fingernails digging into my palm. When I open my fingers, I see nothing at first. Then I notice the guts of a fruit fly smeared between the insides of my disgusting knuckles. 

One down… 

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Jeffry Harrison
Seattle, WA

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