Pathetic. Franticly looking around, picking up trash. Doesn't he know better?

Doesn't he know that no one else cares?

Perhaps he should learn to not care.

I snap my hand over his forehead. His vains go black and his eyes roll white. His shoulders slump. He drops the trash. The vains fade, his eyes roll back, grey. I walk away.

The trash stays on the ground.