I don’t know why, but I decide to jog an extra 5 KM today.

Maybe I just want to be able to include East Road on my route.

It’s very peaceful here; the road winds through a corn field, which stubbornly continues to live in the middle of the city. I feel like I’m back in the country, but the occasional car and the sight of housing projects in the distance occasionally shatter the illusion. There’s litter on either side of the road.

The sidewalk runs out, and I run on the curb.

I pass the carcass of a groundhog on the curb. There is death here. And garbage. I am left out here with the carcasses and trash, while you pull the blinds and fuck that guy in the living room. You left me here on the curb all night. While you fucked that guy behind the blinds. Am I just a carcass; I am trash. Why are you doing this to me?

I don’t like this.

I don’t want to be here. I want to leave.

I don’t want to jog down East Road anymore. I run faster.

I turn right onto Ash Street, panting. I don’t want to go back.