“Miami isn’t too far; it is ninety-five miles away at the most…” Her cherubic features made it hard to fabricate an excuse for wanting to stay in Cuba. I knew that staying here, staying in poverty, predisposed me to a life of misery. The journey would be perilous and I wondered if it was worth it. I wanted to convince her to condone the actions of the corrupt government. I longed to voice my dissent, but I didn’t. I was tired of living life as nothing more than a pitiful pauper, salvaging and pilfering for my next meal. Between her begging and my running thoughts, I decided to take my life into my own hands. I would become a masked marauder, the kind that makes an entire city issue a curfew to protect their beloved inhabitants. I would begin meeting altercations with a spasmodic nature, it was not my duty to compensate for the wrongs in the world.
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I enlisted the help of a close friend whom I knew would be ready to relinquish his soul from this place of so much injustice. We began to purloin from the wealthy, as they would have the most lucrative items. Between both of us, we managed to amass a GPS, a boat motor that ran off of fuel, and thirty-eight 2x4’s from the funeral home. The motor would abridge our journey by more than half the time, making for a somewhat terse
I enlisted the help of a close friend whom I knew would be ready to relinquish his soul from this place of so much injustice. We began to purloin from the wealthy, as they would have the most lucrative items. Between both of us, we managed to amass a GPS, a boat motor that ran off of fuel, and thirty-eight 2x4’s from the funeral home. The motor would abridge our journey by more than half the time, making for a somewhat terse