CONSUME

Every Thursday, the only day of the week I work during the time the custodian takes our trash away, I seethe in anger. Not anger. Disappointment. Disappointment? Betrayal maybe. We have two sets of bins. A blue one, with three arrows simulating a triangle, and a gray one, with a black plastic bag inside. Each day, she comes in, dumps the contents from the gray bin into a larger black plastic bag. She then takes the blue bin, and dumps its contents into the same larger black plastic bag. Good deeds are futile.