Shadowfox046

Cure boredom by riding bikes. Wipe out on concrete floor. Break ankle. Bone sticking through. Drag my way to hardware. Find saw. Find propane torch. Drag myself to first aid. Find gauze and rubbing alcohol. Get bright idea and go to pharmacy. Find opioids. Do opioids. Start to not feel my ankle enough to care. Do more opioids. Start not caring about anything. Find a motor scooter by the front doors. Thought about food. No take more opioids. Take scooter dragging my infected rotting ankle behind me to sporting goods. Find the guns. Find a shotgun. Take more opioids. Find the shells. Pass out. Wake up with a shotgun loaded in my lap and hot pockets in my scooter basket.

Wait! There are generators! I can power a microwave!

Joyfully scoot to find the generators. Drive to the auto center and symphony gas from a car parked. “Damn their tires are bald.”

Go back in and pop a couple more pills. Get my microwave set up. Go to open my hot pockets when I notice they’re Lean Pockets. Vegetarian.

Lay down. Put the barrel in my mouth. How long have I been here? Why is this steel so cold? These damn waxed floors.

I bite down on the barrel longing for Sam Walton’s Great Value embrace.