"Almost Green"

"Where Is My Mind?"

Life in a snowglobe.

Locked in a continuous, vicious cycle, much different from the grand dreams of urban adventures he might’ve had in mind.

Andy spent most of his days working, mindlessly marching towards the riches awaiting at the end of his tunnel, the meek glimmer of coins piling up high.

Working for Duflot, that greedy fuck.

“Making the everyday man rich is my goal, Andrew! Remember that as I force fifteen contracts upon your shoulders and expect you to shove them to the very top of your priority list! Ah, and don’t forget, don’t ask questions and never check the back of your van!” He’d hear his voice, over and over, even when asleep. At this point he knew the way from the library to the docks like the back of his own scarred, bruised hand. He’d drive there almost every single day, a cheery Forte girl by his side, eager to spend the next few hours sitting idly, chewing gum. 

Docks, warehouses, slums, hooded figures, mysterious cargo, zero questions. Such was his life most of the time. At times, it almost made him wish for a sudden biker ambush, yet none ever came. The only real fun to be had was the thrill of singing along to the radio’s hum. Andy and Croissant made a little habit of picking a bunch of songs they both liked and always eagerly awaiting any of them to air.

It started out innocently, very awkwardly, even. During their long, night drives, Croissant would oftentimes murmur along to the classical rock tunes seeping out of the technological wonder of the previous few centuries, really putting out her “singin’ pipes” on full display. Andy never did mind, nor did he ever attempt to join in, always preoccupied with something scraping the mushy surface of his ever so worried brain. One particular day, with one particularly gleeful Croissant by his side, a particularly loud and cheerful song came on, pulling a content whoop from her lungs. 

“Ah-ah! Turn ‘at up, turn ‘at up, baws!” She’d perk up, hands already shooting forward to fiddle with the volume knob. Andy broke from his driving daze, forcing those heavy lids up and correcting the van’s trajectory, narrowly avoiding a month spent in a hospital, as a semi truck skidded right past.

“Aaaa-ah~!” She’d holler along, tapping her feet in rhythm and clapping to the drum’s beating. “Ya like ‘is one, baws?”

“Uh…” He’d hum, mind still half asleep. “Sure, I dunno…”

“Uuuuh~, darlin’, ya gawt ‘ta lemme know~,” She’d sing along, pulling an air guitar to complete her little performance. “Should I stay, or should I go~? C’mon, baws, ya know the words…” A little tug at his sleeve would then follow.

“I’m driving…” Andy would protest, groaning a little.

“C’mooooon… ‘S always tease, tease, tease…” With her eyes closed, she’d continue singing along, pulling at his coat.

“Pffft…” Split, he’d surrender and give in. “... You’re happy when I’m on my knees.”

“One day ‘s fine ‘n next ‘s black!” Perking up and beaming, she’d keep the song going…

“So if you want me off your back…” The both of them wailed in unison, smiles tugging at their lips, lighting up the cabin. “Well, c’mon and lemme know…”