The Streets

Your appetite is spoiled to the idea of beer and nachos because of this new realm of possibility you've found for yourself. You think to yourself that maybe all you need is some fresh air. You waver at the door deciding whether you should change shoes before your trek down the streets.

The kicks stay behind as you leave for the evening, turning the corner at your doorstep and walking down the sidewalk the same way as you would to reach the Sports Bar. You don't get very far before the events that just transpired start haunting your mind; do you really have this incomprehensible power? A part of you is looking for the scenario where you can test it out without the negative repercussions.

You stop at an intersection and notice a flashing blue light out of the corner of your eye. You turn your attention towards it, and to your dismay, it's a cop that's pulled over a drunk driver. The man rests steadily on the hood of his dented car, but his face practically screams ****; his eyes flickering between different states of consciousness.

You try to pull yourself away from the scene as the street in front of you clears up enough to cross, but as you step onto the pavement you notice a small crowd of people exiting the bar across the road. A man and a woman situate themselves just down from the entrance and begin to argue, and you can tell by the way the man slurs his speech he's had a little too many. Why are you the only one sober?

The final straw appears, stumbling out of an alleyway and plopping his ass down on the curb. The raggedy man pulls off his backpack and begins to rummage through it, taking a small metal cup into his hands before zipping the backpack shut.

You're standing in the middle of the road, trying to give yourself a reality check before making your next move. Fate must be trying to tell you something. Maybe, that good things come from a dented sedan, a heated argument, or a dank alleyway? That, or maybe you should just fuck one of these guys.