By S. S. Hicks
I got in line at lunchtime, which was a terrible time to vote. The old people stood in the sun, grumbling about taxes. The college students checked their watches. The dude with the man bun and sandals stared down the guy with a buzz cut in a red cap.
Someone yelled, “Goddamn liberal bastards,” loud enough for everyone to hear.
I looked around for the liberal bastards. Maybe it was my blue socks that had set him off.
“Me?” I replied.
“All of you!” he yelled, pinching his angry face.
And just like that, the line divided.