PLEASE HOLD MY HAND AS I CROSS THE fucking HIGHWAY. . .

Photo by Alvaro Palacios on Unsplash

. . . as another gas-guzzling pickup roars up Highway 50 in front of the vacant lot on which I stand, hugging the Tree of Life. [I’m hugging the Tree of Life, the pickup isn’t hugging it.]

The Tree of Life is just a clusterfuck of cottonweed trees.

The gentle breeze picks up trash from the mudder-fuckin’ twuck and throws it all over the street.

--

--

--

Let’s all write short manifestos about how we think the world should be, or have fun with the idea of it.

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Ann James

Ann James

Her writing muse lurks in the volcanic hills amidst mustangs, marmots and jackalopes. While hiking with her dogs, Ann stumbles upon stories of dark humor.

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