Parking Only

I’ve seen these parking signs at every shitty flea market for my entire life. And for the whole of my wretched existence on this doomed mud-sphere, I’ve imagined someone hanging this in their divorced dad’s garage, then standing in front of it every day as their step-mom comes home from work, shaking their head and tapping the sign. You can’t park here, Stephanie, your food sucks and you’re not even my real mom.