Flash

Posted: November 7, 2013 in Fiction

Curled up in one corner of the couch, clutching the warm, pink blanket.

Zoning out.

But intensely aware that so many things are happening to the body.

Heart’s racing in leaps and bounds.

Nausea.

Every single blink changes the fabric of reality a little bit more.

The warm light in the kitchen, fuzzing over.

Hand waving side to side, leaving trails. Like dragging it through a body of light gold and orange dust.

So many things to be done.

Can’t. Move.

Need to pee.

Navigate to Toilet unsteadily.

Can’t feel liquids. Everything feels like liquid. Liquid. Liquid’s a funny word.  Lick-weeeed. Liquid.

The paint on the walls. All those layers. Uneven. Patches here and there. How come they weren’t noticeable before? Could’ve done a better job.

Wipe. Flush. Turn tap on. More liquid.

Mirror.

Face; so unfamiliar. Could swear the light is flickering. Each flicker highlights every flaw.

So ugly. But so beautiful, too.

It just is.

And body is just a vessel.  A hardworking vessel. Does so much, every day. Thank you, body. All the things it can do. Like, dance.

Dancing in the toilet. Is that weird? Perhaps. But no one is judging. So listen to the music that’s coming from the speakers in the living room. And. Dance.

Okay, maybe it is a litte weird. Exit Toilet. Back to Living Room.

Actually, it’s been hours. Days? No, hours. So, pay a visit to Bedroom, so it won’t feel lonely.

Open the door.

Every.

Single.

Thing.

Jumps out at you.

How do humans live in such filth? Disgusting.

Must. Clean.

Fold fresh laundry. Put away. Desk. Reorder. Everything in place. Neat. Bits of paper, dust, things on the floor. Sweep it all up.

Trying to do all this.

Trying.

But where to start? And where to stop? So many things to clean.

Scream.

Scream.

Scream.

But only on the inside.

“Hey.”

Get the fuck out!

“Hey.”

“You alright?”

No! Just fucking go already!

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

Silence. Alone now.

Get up. Do something. Get up. Get up now.

Walk into Kitchen. Open cupboards. Close. Open drawers. Close. Open again.

Pick up knife.

Everything is numb. What would it feel like?

Just try it.

Just a little bit.

Just.

A.

Little.

Nick.

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