From the day
Perspective: The Anxious Local · Tactile
I scrubbed at the grease on my skinny jeans, flinching as the gas pump clicked over forty dollars; between these prices and the sketchy news about that FBI mole Felt, I’m shaking so hard I can barely click through the grainy videos on that new YouTube site. My palms feel raw against the rough denim and the flimsy chiffon of my tiered top, but my boy doesn't care about the budget, he’s just obsessed with seeing that sleek white Xbox 360 in the window. Honestly, hearing him rattle off every spec is total tmi when I can't even afford bread without checking our location on Google Maps for a cheaper grocer. I just want to hide behind my oversized sunglasses and let Mariah’s voice drown out the world.