April 19, 2004
Silence. Dead quiet. One bird chirps in the background. Back to silence. Opportunity knocks, then runs away. "Hey, it isn't even May first!" A small pile of money floats to the ground. Forest vermin sprint to the dough and strategically place their fecal droppings all over it. The wind stirs my beard. Snore. Dead asleep. One bird chirps in the background. The sound of civilization draws ever near. Pounding hammers and the ring of cash registers. The noise itches my brain. Snort. Wide awake. Two men approach with flashy badges and attitudes. Busted, one count of trying to be free.