janaedh
when I was in third grade, I was the tallest in my class, as tall as an emperor penguin, as tall as a king. I would be 6 feet tall one day, they said. When I turned 12, I came to school and forthe first time I looked my classmates in the eye.
You rush in together. the whole of you, like a pod of whales. Disorganized and floating, but slow, full, in control. You are all the captain. You are all the team. You, you yourself, are all the team. You, you all, are all the team. You are peace and you are massive and you are powerful and you are slow.
The train whistled, a sound that would be too loud if not for the crowd already pushing on her ears. She checked her ticket, Bangkok,3pm, and stepped aboard.
She fell to the bottom, scrabbling at walls and roots, brick scraping and breaking her nails, bloodying them. up above, the tiny whole of light. around her, the void. and last, the silent voice.
you are not yours. the transmission is complete.
It's not the end of the world, yet. I mean, it's close. But
its not the end. It's sort of like the beginning actually. Every
thing is starting. Every end is starting. I mean, like, green house
gasses and shit. you catch me.
in the darkness, a small glitter. a pin, maybe. A piece of dust. Literal glitter? The sort that falls from your skin and purse after returning from the club? it's so small in the deep and dark. Stoop to pick it up. Brush the floor with your fingers. They come away clean. And now, the lights.
the empty glass on the table stared at her. she reached for it, and pulled her hand back again. it meant something to her, but she didn't know what it meant. it didn't mean emptiness or loss. it just meant... a glass. without water.