My trees sway in the breezes from the shore. My house ruffles its feathers as sand dusts the sides. My flowers arc to the ground.

My life isn't exactly what you'd call glamorous. Hell it's not even good. Not like that bathroom cabinet, getting cleaned every other day and handled like it's made of glass.No, my life is literally full of shit. They come, they sit, they shit. On the good days, I'm lucky…

Cacophony of an engine-braking eighteen-wheeler/ scatters the crows to fences, trees and wires/ in a startling chant of caw, caw, caw.