Second Short Story from Class Prompt

Helliam

Don’t look at them straight in the eyes or at the saliva and mucus they spew all over the sidewalks. Don’t look at their red, watery-eyed faces brewed in hours of smoking marijuana with their “hot-boxed” demons in their carbon fiber-modified Honda Civics before “class.” Don’t expect much besides a barbaric f-word dialect and mutual stupidity. Expect the police officers to be listening to obscenity-filled, de-educating rap music while on the “patrol” for analogous sorts of criminals. Don’t expect the Bursar’s Office to be doing anything besides masturbating behind their desks before you come for an answer to a question they will show no insight or foreknowledge of. Expect your professors to speak a foreign language and all the students to be making calls while in class on cell phones they cannot afford. This is a preparation for Hell, i.e. living in Haledon or humorously named ”Prospect Park,” you juvenile delinquent. This is how you wait to die. This is much worse than non-existence. This is friendless and lonely. You are only selfish and spoiled. Listening to the miserable humans is the only way to succeed though you are so bent upon becoming a failure with that selfish attitude. This is how you make coffee. This is how you set an alarm to actually wake up for nothing worthwhile. This is how you roll a blunt. This is how you trick humans into giving you their money with the least toiling entailed. This is how you write passive aggressive letters to your billers. This is how you get no response to anything you do. This is how you become an indentured servant. This is how you nod your head in hatred. Don’t throw stones at Paterson natives; they are toolmakers, too. Likely, they are of a Brass Age intellect with all considerations made. This is how you talk to belligerents; but what if they don’t let me talk to them? You might as well not even try to begin with.