Vegan Nightmares

By Alex Lezell Jones II 

You're walking outside and the roads are wet. Wet enough that cars driving by create mist. Nothing unbearable or blinding but something that is reminiscent of being refreshed. Keeps your eyes wide open and subtly reminds you that at this specific point in time,

YOU, are in fact nature.

Makes you feel warm right?

Then truth becomes mixed with your imagination, and you realistically begin to break down the mist that now feels like it is staining you.

Where have those car tires been? Through mud, road-kill and shit? The road if looked at through a magnifying glass, would show crumbs and debris of fast food wrappers and stirofoam cups. People spitting, cigarets ashing, and now you're itching.

If the mist had a color you'd be painted black.

One drop that multiplies like maggots until you are completely covered. And as you walk, eyes wide open, you are sadly reminded that at this specific point in time,

you are in fact nature.

Still make you feel warm?