It dun’t say nothin’ about ‘No Vagrants’. Don’t care what you say, I got a right to stand here. Yep, you go back inside! Go back in. Call em, then! Call whoever you want.

Thass right. Dun’t say anything about vagrants. I ain’t even busking, just bidin’ my time. Just watching the folks go past.

Ey! Hello, kids! Ey you!

Spare six dollars? Huh? Spare six…?

Yeah, fine, walk on by. Fuggin’ kids, with yer satchel bags and yer eye paint. Never listened to yer parents. Never know what’s good for yer.

You’ll find out pretty soon, though, when you try to drive yer parents’ big red Mazda too fast down the wrong way lane…

I can read. Dun’t say nothin’ about me… What it does say’s ‘No Dogs’. I can read it all, all of the fine print, the stuff you wouldn’ even see. I’ll read it real close, and I’ll tell ya what it says.

Yeah, you fella! Walkin’ past. You used ta’ have a dog, din’t ya? Yer wife made you take it down the shelter. Nice birthday present, she said, but it got too big. You loved that dog, though. Was only a month later when you checked that shelter’s website. Checked the Kill List for that day, an’ there he was.

There he was. Big brown eyes.

But you ain’t listening, are ya? I said, are ya? Hey… spare six dollars?

Fine, walk on.

But I can read what you ain’t never gonna see. And I ain’t gonna stand around here forever, readin’ signs. Gonna get it all back. Gonna get me my own sign.

Won’t keep me out then, huh.

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Xander Bennett rearranges words for fun and profit. Read a preview of his new book at

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