American Shithole #4 — What Treasures Await Within The Failure Box?
“Mom, can I have more shelf-stable milk?”
“Now Timmy, you know you have already had your governmentally allotted granules of dehydrated, dairy product! You know the billionaire class needs every cent the rest of us can spare, for really important reasons, like they want it. Now help your sister open the meat.
“Aww, mom! But I need strength in my bones for the Trump Parade!
Well, now that the Trump parade is every second Thursday of the month, I guess you’re right, son!”
There was no thunder, no glowing doorway, no mysterious wind blowing through the apartment, and no choir of angels politely alerting me that physics had submitted its resignation.
The deck simply felt heavier.