27 Apr

Early meeting. No coffee in house. Swung over to McDonalds. Discount McMuffin. Senior coffee. “$1.46,” says the counter girl, whose studs and lip clips make her look like one of two American icons: zombie or vampire. Vampire: initially drained of blood (no, not drained, not entirely) by American corporations. Zombie: the walking dead the corporations have made of us. Unoriginal thoughts. Unoriginal thoughts in McDonalds. I take out my credit card. It has wings on it. My wife insists I earn miles. I slide the card. The sound of plastic sliding in a plastic groove is comforting. I think: one is totally acculturated when using a credit card at McDonalds at 7 a.m. seems natural. My novel, Two-Headed Dog, available on Amazon.




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