Saul Lemerond

It’s another hot day, and the tide is rising. The son shoulders his father’s rifle and walks back toward the beach house thinking the reason he’s shot the hole in the tank is because his dad refused to buy him a half million follows. “Please like, comment, and subscribe.” He says, holding his phone at eye level and trying to steady his hand because he is still shaking with generational anger he will probably never understand.  Water spills out onto the ground as the cat patiently watches the flapjack octopus scurry to the opposite side of its tank. Time is…