The Kings Of Cool

114

Drug Warrior Dennis Cain

Gets up in the morning feeling no different, which is almost a disappointment after making a Faustian deal for his soul.

I mean, you think you’d notice, right? Something different.

Yeah, not so much.

He makes his coffee, drinks his orange juice, kisses his wife on the cheek, makes two scrambled eggs and eats them while exchanging sleepy early-morning talk with his girls, says to his wife,

“Those countertops? I’ve been thinking. We can afford them.”

“Really? You sure?”

“Yeah, why not? You only live once.”

He finishes his breakfast, says goodbye, gets into his car, says hi to the neighbor who is getting into his car, and joins the other pilgrims in the commuter-hour snarl on I-15 South.

It’s a pisser.

You sell your soul and no one even notices.

Not even you.