Never had he hated anybody the way he’d hated Cody Cavanaugh back in second grade. Sure, he hated his ex-wife. He hated her custody lawyer, too. He hated his landlord, but who didn’t hate their landlord a little? He’d decided he hated his supervisor at Big Lots, too, after the bastard cut him down to twenty-eight hours a week. He hated this crummy town full of potholes, empty storefronts, dead-eyed teenage boys roaming the sidewalks on BMX bikes and chunky girls in too-tight Tweety Bird t-shirts hanging out in parking lots all day. He’d grown up here and never left. Who in his position wouldn’t hate this place?
Coming soon from Profane Journal.