Swelling Tongues

Posted: August 7, 2012 in Uncategorized

A garbage bag full of crumpled up and filled-out lottery tickets sat next to the back door, elastic plastic holding paper and ink, holding hundreds and hundreds of numbers that, on their given night, dared to be unique. A line of ants formed a two-way highway snaking just around the side of this mountain of unfulfilled dreams, content with a puddle of spilled soda on concrete. Several feet higher in the air though, a face looking dejected and lost stares through the panes of dirty glass to the grass and dirt and sighs. Why is it never his turn to get lucky? Why is it always somebody else?

A row of plastic containers, each holding a medley of different prescription medications sat beneath his chin. He opened the one marked “F”, swallowed the large green one, the small red one, and the triangular white one. Internally, he calculated the check for this meal – $14. The pills were expensive, but if he stopped taking them, then it would be his turn. Maybe even in a lucky kind of way. Beneath these seven containers, the open maw of the drain seemed so easy. He thumbed the plastic, and in no rational way whatsoever began to calculate his odds.

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