Furnace
Ex-Bluelighter
I got my flashlight ready.
It's 3 am, and I leave my house to retrieve one small bag.
I go outside to walk over to the dumpster, outside of the local near-by school.
The orange crime lamps light my path across the street and towards the large green dumpster that contains a bag that I threw away on Friday night. There were memories in that bag of a girl, lost but not far away. Gone but still remembered. She wasn't there when I hummed and hawed on my decision to get it back or not. It lay dormant in that dumpster all weekend long. I thought about it, and it flashed back to me at certain points where I wondered what I would do about it. Naturally, I forgot about it, but it would come back to me in flashes of indecision.
A friend of mine told me that it was good that I got rid of it.
Another told me that he regretted ever doing it.
So, I stood there in front of this green monster.
As I stand down the dumpster, I kind of hope that it'll be empty, and hence, the bag would be lost forever. No need for me to be here, and a reason for me to wake up and forget this ever happened. I get up to it and get hit immediately with the pungent stank of a bag filled with rotting dog shit. It thrusts my memory back to the days where I was made to be a slave to man's best friend. I was a slave to over 30 dogs, under the watch of a pig of a man who drove me to the edge of frustration.
The dog shit bag, coated in maggots, needs to be moved in order to successfully recover any salvagable contents of my bag. With a gag and a cough, I move the bag as a shower of tiny white maggots bail like first class passengers on the Titanic.
With a stifiled breath, my bag is located, and pulled out from in between the undirty pieces of cardboard, which ended up protecting it. I hold the bag in the sidewalk. and I'm left with one question.
"Why?"
then, I either wake up or go to sleep.
It's 3 am, and I leave my house to retrieve one small bag.
I go outside to walk over to the dumpster, outside of the local near-by school.
The orange crime lamps light my path across the street and towards the large green dumpster that contains a bag that I threw away on Friday night. There were memories in that bag of a girl, lost but not far away. Gone but still remembered. She wasn't there when I hummed and hawed on my decision to get it back or not. It lay dormant in that dumpster all weekend long. I thought about it, and it flashed back to me at certain points where I wondered what I would do about it. Naturally, I forgot about it, but it would come back to me in flashes of indecision.
A friend of mine told me that it was good that I got rid of it.
Another told me that he regretted ever doing it.
So, I stood there in front of this green monster.
As I stand down the dumpster, I kind of hope that it'll be empty, and hence, the bag would be lost forever. No need for me to be here, and a reason for me to wake up and forget this ever happened. I get up to it and get hit immediately with the pungent stank of a bag filled with rotting dog shit. It thrusts my memory back to the days where I was made to be a slave to man's best friend. I was a slave to over 30 dogs, under the watch of a pig of a man who drove me to the edge of frustration.
The dog shit bag, coated in maggots, needs to be moved in order to successfully recover any salvagable contents of my bag. With a gag and a cough, I move the bag as a shower of tiny white maggots bail like first class passengers on the Titanic.
With a stifiled breath, my bag is located, and pulled out from in between the undirty pieces of cardboard, which ended up protecting it. I hold the bag in the sidewalk. and I'm left with one question.
"Why?"
then, I either wake up or go to sleep.
