I picked up a disc and got forced into someone else’s funeral
Somebody left a purple disc with a full memorial note telling strangers what to do with it, where to throw it, and where to leave it, turning a chill course into a guilt obstacle. I am standing there holding plastic and suddenly I am responsible for honoring Philip’s legacy or looking heartless in public. That disc did not ask, it ordered, and now I am pissed because I did not consent to being part of anyone’s grief ritual.
I threw it fast and ugly just to get it out of my hands, dumped it at the next hole, and walked off irritated. The disc sat there waiting to trap the next person, and I kept moving
