Dry

How I am lost in the verdant spring, yet my mind wanders an arid, desert road... Eclectic music drones from my random playlist as I shoot at nothing, then reload... The cat plays with the poisoned mouse, and I let it... The old dog is the only true pet... She left the house with her hair still wet... All this ammo will surely put me into debt... The air is humid but my brain is dry... Somewhere in west Nevada if I really try... The shells don't rust there when they hit the ground... There my falling tears would actually make a sound...