CAD20 by Guy Yasko

It is the dogshit thaw, with the trees still bare, the grass still dead. Black-ringed snow lines the streets. Head down under grey skies and greyer thoughts: pea soup, shit job… Dirty, dead-green grass offers up a swatch of blue-green. The queen, a twenty. Coffee, a few hours in a warm café, tea, milk, ham… All gone in an hour or two. Tomorrow there will be no twenty.

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