The problem with the bleachers

I vow to never again live near a school-sized set of bleachers. There are entirely too many zealous runners in this town who, like magnets, pound up and down the bleachers, making enough noise to echo in my small apartment. I squint at them, their sweaty bodies cresting at the top row, and wish for a slingshot or long-distance Nerf gun.

snow bleachers edited

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