Photo prompt: © Anshu Bhojnagarwala
“It’s an effing eyesore.”
“I don’t care.”
Martin balled his fists but Susan just gazed at him.
She said nothing but he knew: Raise a finger on me and off to jail you go. The judge was clear: Anger-Management or prison. Martin took the former but could swear Susan’s infuriating behavior intended to get him the latter.
He inhaled slowly before turning away. “When Sanitation fines us,” he growled, “it’s all yours to pay.”
“Fine,” she shrugged. “Though I think they won’t.”
He glared. “Why? Got connections?”
“Nope,” she patted the rotting piano. “I’ve registered it as street art.”