Watching a man lumber out of Walmart and across the parking lot to his car.  I can tell he is a patriot because sometime prior to this he purchased and installed an American flag which is clipped to his driver window.  He is not pushing a cart, nor his he holding any grocery bags.  In his hand is simply a hulking stick of salami.  Maybe he’s assembling a party platter and forgot this final defining touch.  Maybe he’s going to use it to practice his baseball swing.

Or maybe, this is his dinner.  His fetish.  His addiction.  I watch as his salami stained fingers make contact with his salami stained door handle, and before my eyes he transforms into a salami human.  As he drives away he turns his shiny meat head to me and winks.