Slug

by Abbi Erbacher

I’m on my walk back from practice, feeling worthless. suggestion after suggestion being dismissed.

walking home with my headphones on to drown out anyone calling after me.

they probably aren’t anyway.

passing the crosswalk on my way to my apartment, I pass spot after spot of a squished mess.

following their sparkling trails I come upon more and more crushed slugs.

I sigh and think about their lives. short lived? definitely. but they deserved life just as anyone does. they deserved for your steps to be taken with care. they deserved for you to maneuver around them, have a thought about them before you went and crushed their physical embodiment.

I wonder if they knew is was coming or if it was sudden. I wonder if any of them put themselves in harms way on purpose. followed their trail to the crosswalk. sick of the little lives they live.

sometimes I feel like a slug.

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