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.