The Mutt and the Patch of Grass

Photo by Kanashi

It’s not every day that I get to have a really good conversation with a dog. The dog wasn’t talking. It was just me. I was sitting on the patch of grass that was available on my block. Wait. Let’s talk about the patch of grass for all the newcomers.

I live in a supercity with over 641 million people, there is very little grass. We have a decent number of trees, but grass is scarce. I waited an hour to sit on this patch for just eight minutes. It used to be ten. At least you don’t have to pay for it in this neighborhood.

I don’t know what kind of picture you have in your head about this grass. Let me clear it up. This is just one patch of grass. Not a big park. It fits only two people. They are scattered throughout this fine supercity of ours.

I was very next in line and noticed the woman in front of me had to leave early. I saw tears in her eyes. She was visibly upset or saddened by something. I felt bad for her until I realized I was going to get the three minutes she was leaving behind.

The rule is if someone leaves early you get their remaining time plus your time in the grass. This is something you talk about with your friends when it happens to you. It is happiness. People in line behind you cannot get mad, well they can, but it would only be the jealousy of the extra time they are not going to get. I am…