Mar 092008

Henry and Chooch are inside the grocery store while I’m waiting in the car, reading a book and listening to Moros Eros. I happened to glance over at the car parked to our left and noticed that an elderly man is sitting alone in the passenger seat.


At first I thought nothing of it and went back to my book. But then a nagging thought set up shop in my head: what if he dies? This old man alone in the parked car, what if he has a heart attack and dies and then I look over again and there he is, all dead and slumped over on top himself, foamy saliva – death juice – seeping past his lips. And then suddenly the parking lot is deserted and its just me and this dead old guy and it’s up to me to make the call and do I even really know where I am right now? Do I tell them I’m parked in front of the cart return in Parking Lot, Space #10? Do I get a medal then?

Hopefully Old Guy keeps breathing until I’m gone because wow, what a way to fuck up someone’s Sunday.

(Oh good – he left first.)

  2 Responses to “Hypothetical Hell”

  1. wow. your never cease to amaze me with the way you think.

Say it don't spray it.

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