I drove to the veterinarian at warp speed and hoped not to get pulled over. My heart pounded, but I kept my cool and talked to him. “It’ll be okay, Dougie.”

I slammed open the door and yelled: “Help him!”

“Don’t worry we’ll do everything we can to save Dougie’s leg.”

“Agreed. All young people want to do is have fun, go on adventures, play sports, work out, join social clubs, have sex, see the world, fall in love, attack the status quo, learn new skills, create art, make friends, get high, topple the oligarchy, save the world from self-destruction, dance the night away, see how fast they can go, push boundaries, eat at all the cool places, risk life and limb, and trip the light fantastic.

“That sounds nice, but the reality is mostly posting to social media and binge watching Friends.”

Solanaca was known for her ability to read the future and cast hexes. For 100 dollars, she offered a potion that would compel the imbiber to answer one question truthfully.

Derek gladly paid the cash. Superstition prevented him from seeing Mandy before the ceremony, so he waited until the reception to slip the potion into her champagne.

“Do you truly love me?”

It wasn’t like a wish turned wrong, just a straight up curse, placed on him by unlucky stars, or an aggrieved warlock, or just dumb luck.

He learned to live with after a while. It was inconvenient, but he managed to eat by having people gently place food into his throat and swallowing without chewing. Soups mostly.

Of course his love life was non-existent. Porcelain people in various stages of undress wasn’t much of a fetish.

I should say they are ex-friends, because I rarely see them anymore. I spend most of the time at my girlfriend’s house. Who wouldn’t want to? She lives in the old mansion at the top of the hill. The same house we used to say was haunted when we were kids.

“Papers!”

I handed my identification to the Nazi, and he scanned them, eyeing me at the same time as I sweated profusely. He tossed them on my lap and moved on, not noticing the forgery.

Screams ensued as the woman behind me beseeched the officer to let her husband go, and then I heard a thud. The Man had collapsed, presumably dead and the woman in hysterics was taken away.

I remember you running in open fields until you realize how far away you are, then running just as fast back to me.

I remember the vet telling me you had cancer, and the impending darkness I endured for two years. When he admitted his mistake I wanted to be mad but couldn’t be. Those years were a gift.

But a wrecking ball is just a machine. A big one to be sure, yet still a tool, a vehicle, a spare part–the last one that needs replacing. It’s not the ball doing the annihilation, but the driver. It’s not the driver, but the foreman, or the one percent, or the unbearable weight of social change.