of wolves and children

three post tween thug wannabees manning their corner near the entrance
to walmart. they are heckling people as they come and go. i see one of
the elderly employees formerly known as door greeters trying to
convince them to leave as i walk in. where is the manager? delegating,
i'm sure. spineless.

all i need is poster boards numbering four. no hassle. no trouble.
negative, ghost rider, the pattern is full.

but.

as i leave, i see the elderly woman almost in tears. another woman,
younger, pregnant, is making a stand, telling the boys they need to
leave. they laugh and call her names as men walk by without a word.
balless. where's the respect? i'd slap the taste out of my son's mouth
if i ever heard him say these things to a woman.

choice. to walk. to stay. to retreat?

"f*ck off, you fat b*tch."

i put my items on the concrete and close in, teeth bared.

ghost