Wishes
2024 08 24 | journal
These are the sorts of things I wish upon the sort of people who’d plug their ears and smirk while the names of dead Palestinian children are being read out while they walk by:
- I hope they step on tiny Lego every day.
- I hope the scoop of every ice cream they ever have falls off the cone.
- I hope all their forks disappear.
- I hope their microwave trays break.
- I hope they always feel there’s crumbs in their sheets.
- I hope they wake every morning to find the milk and cream for their morning beverages has gone off.
- I hope their fridges always smell vaguely of vomit.
- I hope they never have enough change for the pop machine.
- I hope they wake up the day of every important meeting or interview they have for the rest of their lives to find they’re out of clean underwear.
- I hope the last peach of the season is always too rotten to eat.
- I hope they get on the bus right after the person who takes the last seat.