Bald Kid
.
I was riding on
the train in the
afternoon,
and across from me
sits a bald kid with
his mom.
He’s begging her.
He says,
“Please! I wanna play
on the football team!
Please, Mama! Please!”
And Mama says:
“Absolutely not!”
Then the kid
goes silent.
And he just
stares straight
ahead.
And he just says,
without breaking into
tears or anything he says,
He says “I’m glad I have cancer.”
His mom slaps him across
the face hard and starts
yelling and crying.
He just stares ahead.
Like he knew the
Earth really wasn’t much
to miss
anyway.
.
to miss
anyway.
.
.
Sante has been writing for roughly five years, and is published/upcoming in Northern Eclecta and BarBar Magazine. You can find more of his work at santewrites.substack.com.
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