Gas Leak

Empty cans of paint loaded into the trunk of a rental car. 

The desire to return to an imagined state of purity. Was there ever one? 

They evacuated the building while the fire department tried to find the source of the leak. They gave the all clear then immediately rescinded it. I stood out in the sun, watching people walk by. A man carrying an assembled tent on his back walked past, never once setting it down.

When they say purity, they mean whiteness. They want everyone to be white. As if that was inherently a good thing. 

He complains that the only car they had available to rent was a Prius and that when he got in his head touched the roof. “I had to drive all scrunched over,” he said, then gave me a fist bump, which was his way of saying both hello and goodbye. Like aloha. 

And the government was busy kidnapping brown people and putting them in jail in El Salvador and everyone just kind of accepted it, even if they didn’t think it was okay. What could they do?

And I forgot my password. And the cat refused to sit in my lap, even though she usually likes to.

Of course many people vote against their best interests.

And I tried not to stare but I sneaked a peek when I thougth she wasn’t looking but she caught me and I felt terrible. But I knew I would probably do it again. 

I’m white and to be honest I don’t think it’s anything special. Though a little part of me, a little lump in my scrotum, is relieved because it makes me less likely to be spirited away to rot in a jail in El Salvador. 

Belief in the existence of purity is a kind of madness. 

They never found out what caused the gas leak.

And I went out to happy hour and ordered the cheapest thing on the menu and felt terrible. And it wasn’t even worth it.