The junk man

Ahh, my old familiar friend, the on-ramp (I-70 & Old Troy Pike). It feels different this time. Maybe it's because it's kinda new again, or maybe it's because I just had the biggest two days of Aimless up to this point... At about 4:35 PM I began making a new kind of difference. As I stood beside a broken beer bottle, I thought, "Gee, that kind of reminds me of the semi-circular scar on my right wrist, from when I fell on a broken beer bottle at age 10, completely severing five tendons. I wouldn't want that to happen to anyone else. So I think I'm going to pick up as much trash as I can, then put it all in a nice neat pile where someone else can come and easily get rid of it all." Then I started doing it. I'm proud of myself for doing this and I'm going to make it a habit whenever I find myself standing alone beside an on-ramp. I have picked up enough to fill a trash bag. It's little
things like this that change the world. (It'll surely make cop encounters a little more pleasant, too!)