Overheard

Two Boston accents, one clearly struggling, the other privileged and delusional. Something about needing to get his shit together and try harder.

I want to look up, use what little eye contact allotment I have for the day, and counter their accents with my Texas one, as if it has some strange authority over spouting conservatism and can in turn counter that, too.

“It ain’t your fault,” I would say to the man seated across from me, holding the phone with his head in his hands.