They called him a meddler ever since he was a toddler. He listened to people affairs. One day his parents were on the stairs. Little meddler could hear dispense in the couple’s voice, so the little one skipped kindergarten fence took car keys into his little hands from his daddy’s jacket pocket sneaked into garage, with his small steps, while couple was fighting, opened the door, hoped in, put keys in the ignition -BRM! -Like a Rocket! A noise was heard all to stairs. Little meddler small as a mouse pressed gas peddle and left the house. His parents heard the noise when they got there only did they choke on a cloud of smoke left behind little meddler’s skid marks. Only they could see was tainted glass and a little meddler drift through corners of grief.
I don’t even know what this is…
Maybe, there is a little meddler in me.