Last Night (before sleep)

I want to burn the buildings down.  I want to spread gasoline on the sidewalks and throw Molotov cocktails into the business fronts.  I want to shoot flame-tipped arrows into the windows of every apartment so that the neighborhood ceases to exist.  I want to light the match.  Anything to not have to see him.  Anything to shut him up.

His voice carries.

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