Angry at a Thief

“Life is what you make it” is a common phrase that I say all the time and believe in. Sometimes it becomes interesting even if you don’t do anything. I guess you could say this was my fault, but let me begin.

I leave my flip flops outside, on the welcome mat of my home. I have been doing that for years with no issues until a couple of days ago. There’s always a first time for everything.

As I was about to head out of the house in the afternoon, I realized my flip flops were missing and in their place was a hideous pair belonging to a stranger. “What the fuck?” I exclaimed.

I asked my mom if she had brought my flip flops into the house – negative. I told her that they were gone. She laughed. I wasn’t so amused about it.

They were my favorite pair of flip flops! And they weren’t cheap! And last I checked, Miniso had stopped selling them. I was pissed off. Immediately, I began to wish the worst upon whoever had switched my footwear. I was talking to myself, calling the thief all sorts of names. My mind began generating evil thoughts – leaving out another pair of flip flops with diseased needles protruding from the bottom, the thief getting his/her foot trapped in an escalator, the thief stumbling down a large flight of stairs to their death – everything under the sun. I had never hated someone as much as I did that day.

It took me a day to cool down until I returned home and saw that my flip flops weren’t on my welcome mat, which reminded me of that miscreant. I was still mad.

I haven’t been this angry in a while. I know my words don’t hold any power, but it is cathartic to let it out.

To the owner of the flip flops above (who knows if they were stolen too): fuck you, you lowlife degenerate. I hope stealing my flip flops will be the cause of your downfall. May you and your family be plagued by foot diseases, victims of abuse, and robbed blind. Sooner rather than later. You don’t deserve such comfortable footwear.

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