“I feel like we’re three-chording our way toward extinction,” Maple said, foam indeterminate hanging from their lip.
“We’ve been a bobsled on a torture highway since twenty-seven arbitrarily became the rock n roll horse latitude.”
The bridge swayed slightly, triggering Kelly’s vertigo.
“Sing that in the park, Maple, not here with the cops on their way and me too upset to remember it later.”
Maple spit.
“Just once I wanna go to someone’s house and see their action figures off the shelf, see them on the floor with ‘em, fighting each other, breaking plastic, like the world does to us.”
***
No Youth by Sean Nader used with the expressed permission of the artist.