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shopp2ngcarts · 1 month
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Radio 1
they killed her on the freeway and left the radio playing in her car. they let the blood stain the steering wheel, leaving it to lie there with the broken touch of a lazy private detective. she was placed on medical leave for rubella, a thorny chill reaching up her spine in the morning, a gangrenous hand reaching down her throat in the evening. everyone yelled at us; why did they kill her? why must she be dead today when she was un-dead the day before? we do not know. sometimes things are meant to die and we leave them lying on the side of the road, breathing. she was listening to folk songs when they killed her. they were about the endless countryside and how lovely the sunset is in the evening. it was wrong of her to do that. we must know that the wilderness is not for us, its for the things we keep in the closet, and the things that escaped from other peoples closets after they let the hinges rust off. the raccoons looked upon her body with paper-veiled hunger: but they did not eat. we all know it is not polite to eat when you are hungry. you do not want to upset the starving. in the end we did not clean the steering wheel. we did not even look her in the eyes. in the end the radio killed her; her cold choleric spine killed her, the folks who warned her of how happy she could be tomorrow killed her. but we had to go and eat our homecooked meals, so we turned off the radio and blew up the car, leaving her wailing children to pick through the burning wreckage.
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shopp2ngcarts · 1 month
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hey! this is the second coming of @shopp1ngcarts, the place where i goof around. this account is here so i can put my writing and whatever else i make in a place that is not my other place. something like that.
i write poetry, short stories, weird tangents about games n sports, that sort of thing. thank you for stoppin by.
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