By Chrys Enns, Contributor
Once when I was walking home from my minimum wage job
that I hated more than anything most days but that day the most
I saw, to my surprise
one
two
three
five
raccoons in the children’s playground near my house that I shared with my two other roommates.
I know that raccoons are feral
vicious
hungry
but at that moment I was that, and more
and so I reached into my pocket to grab the cookie I had taken
(stolen)
from work
(but it is okay to steal from a job that you hate, in fact I encourage you to steal up to the amount that they should pay you for healthcare coverage)
and I crumbled it up into little bits and I scattered the crumbs across the playground
and the racoons scampered over and grabbed them with their little gloved hands
and they ate them the way I ate my food on my fifteen-minute lunch break in the middle of my eight-hour shift standing and serving other happy people who had more than me
and I thought that maybe I was a racoon with little thieving hands and a mask and little sharp teeth
but then I got scared and shooed them away and they ran into the night, scampering across the road
and I scampered too.
