To-day at the gas station there was this horrible man. He was lumbering all around the station, wandering among the cars and the gas pumps, pushing along a bicycle and a large trash-bag sack, and all the while shouting. He shouted things about Trump and Biden and used the word fuckin a lot. He shouted things about various ethnicities and robots and AI taking your jobs. He shouted at nobody in particular, approaching and receding, but I got the feeling that if I gave the slightest twitch of a reaction he would direct all of his attention at me. Everyone else at the pumps was also trying her best to ignore him completely.

I had two thoughts.

The sensible part of me thought, I need to get out of here as quickly as possible.

The writer part of me thought, Maybe I ought to listen and gather material.

The sensible part of me prevailed, and as soon as the fuel nozzle clicked, I grabbed my receipt and got back into my car. I exchanged a glance and a shrug with the woman who was using the gas pump opposite me before we both hightailed it out of there into safer streets.

The writer part of me thinks, This Kitten Carnival entry could have been a lot stronger if only I stayed around to take down the monologue.