jakecapp
I watched the pizza maker intently. I watched him gently drop the pieces of mozzarella cheese, followed by black olives, and what was that last item? Oh yeah, the motherfucking sundried tomatoes. I could not wait to eat this sumptuous masterpiece of deliciousness.
Underneath the calm facade of "polite," I boiled. I wanted to reach across the table and slowly squeeze his windpipe until he gasped for air and turned purple. He would slowly die. I smiled. I smiled and listened to this smug, conceited man as he condescended to me. I of course did not kill him. Later that day as I thought of my lost job and iced my fist I told myself: "It was definitely worth it."
Submerged and drowning, I couldn't escape. This relationship was killing me one day, one hour, one minute at a time.
Damnit. It was a decoy and now I was trapped. How could I fall for something so simple and elemental? I continued to crouch behind the flipped over table. The firefight was on pause, but it was not over. My heart was beating so fast, blood pumping and bulging in my veins.
How could I be blamed? They all blamed me. I was the only one who tried to help the damn girl. They all stood by and watched her die slowly. I try to break through to the girl and help her grow and heal. Was it my fault that she died? Maybe it was. No. No. It wasn't my fault. I did the right thing. The one in the right is always blamed.
I remember my first time at the circus. The first thing I saw was a clown on stilts. He scared me and maybe that's why I am so afraid of clowns. For some reason nothing else from the circus still scares me. There were knife throwers, flame breathers, tight rope walkers, lions, elephants, and more. But something about that clown on stilts stuck with me.
What a fucking frenzy. I'm just carrying some food around and these people descend on me like vultures. They act as though they had never eaten before. It was a bonafide feeding frenzy if I ever saw, experienced, or served one. When I ran out of the good food, people leered at me on my way back to the kitchen, like it was my fault I needed more food.