The Haunted Traveler Vol. 2 Issue 1

81
punk’d
Leslie Bohem
Two boys were walking down a city street. Weston
and Henry. Teenagers, maybe fourteen or fifteen. Baggy
pant boys, that dopey hip/hop look where you basically have
to hold your pants on with a hand or a weird walk. White
kids, trying for an out of date black fashion. Wiggers. They
were passing a badly rolled joint back and forth.
“In the future,” Weston was saying, “they won’t have
cars, you know, cause we’re running out of oil and stuff. “
“You think so?” Henry asked. “I mean my dad drives
a Prius. And he works at home.”
“Does he work online?”
“Indeed.”
“Every time you search something on Google, it goes
to this giant server that’s like basically the size of Cleveland.
Takes more power to run than a city. In the future, man, it’s
all gonna have to get small.”
Their pants were doing that dopey sag. A car slowed as it
passed them. A woman yelled, “Pull ‘em up!” out the window.
“Clearly a woman with no fashion sense,” Henry