Remy
While people were laughing and telling jokes in the packhouse's backyard, I sat on the hood of a broken vehicle throwing back a cold beer.
"Remy," someone shouted from inside my house. "You didn't finish your chores!"
"It's too late to do them now, Ma!" I called back.
My best friend, Crowler, growled under his breath. "Look at them," Crowler muttered. "Guy cheats on his wife with his sister-in-law and gets a celebration. We stole a single van and everyone looks at us like we're criminals. Bunch of hypocrites."
Crowler grabbed the beer out of my hold and chugged down a few sips of it before giving it back.
I drew my knees closer to my chest. "It's just the way the world works, man. Folks like to look down on people like us to feel better about themselves."
"Remy! Why are there
