Nerman scrolled through his Facebook feed and then felt disgusted at the post that scrolled into view. His cousin posted about rights of women and minorities and immigrants.
“Those complainers. They always want something for free. I never got anything for free so why should they?”, he thought to himself.
He pulled out his keyboard, “Shut up and sit down you whiners. Life don’t owe you nothing.”
His cousin replied, “It’s not about getting everything for free it’s about fixing broken and racist areas of society that were created during slavery days.”
“All lives matter Carl! This is the fairest country in the world. If things are going right it’s your own fault.”
“I wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss real problems people are facing.”
“Bah” Nerman said.
Nerman went back to scrolling and then went to make a dinner.
He went to the mirror and lit up a smoke, “Other people’s problems ain’t nothing to me. Fuck you all for even mentioning there are problems in the world. I got mine…”
Nerman went to his living room chair and flipped on the TV. A storm had been brewing outside and lightning was flashing across the windows. Nerman looked back at the TV and drank from his beer. Slowly and despite the storm he faded off to sleep.
Early the next morning the door bell rang. Nerman got up and answered. The woman who answered took a look and looked shocked. “I must be at the wrong house”, she stammered
“June it’s me. Why are you acting like you don’t know me?”
June looked back inquisitively and then continued walking away.
Nerman had the same thing happen numerous times that morning.
Finally, Nerman went home. Maybe it’s because I didn’t shower this morning. Nerman looked in the mirror and fell back against the wall knocking over his All Lives Matter posters.
No longer did he see what his normal racist self. “This has got to be some kind of joke.”
He tried rubbing it off but he might as well be trying to erase ink. Then a thought ocurred to him…Carl….
Running to the kitchen he opened the box of cake that his cousins had sent. Purple cake. Why does purple matter? Frantically he tore the cake apart. And there it was… under the doily was a note and a receipt, “Enjoy the month you racist prick. lol”
