shadeofman
Everything leaves. It's up to memory to hold things as they were.
"No, no! This is wrong! If we do this, we're no better than them. Please, there has to be another way."
Loss is inevitable, for as there is gain, there are losses. Small, large, none to be disregarded.
This is one. Everyone's made one, whether with their clothes or their actions or their words. We are constantly saying things.
But who will listen?
Stuck everywhere. You know those black splotches on the sidewalk? Really old gum. Yeah. Chomping away, for what? Distraction? Whetting your hunger? Who knows? But don't chew it all day.
(The way that a cow does~)
You can find all sorts of stuff in these. Little toys. Folders, notebooks, pieces of paper. Maybe some 'tools', depending on who uses them and how obsessed they are with things being in their proper place.
Some short, some long. Triggered easily by some things, and hardly bothered by others. But a practical guarantee to set one off is an overload. Of mostly unpleasantness.
Icing. Geez, you know how hard it is when Ma bakes and there's this giant bag of usually either banana cream, or some other delicious sweetness, just begging to get eaten?
Instructions were to write. So that's what I'm doing. I could basically write about anything, because then I'd have followed the instructions, but instead, I'm writing about how I'm writing about the instructions when I could choose anything and still be following the rules.
And you're reading it.
Who did it? Was it you, sir? Seeking fame and fortune? Or perhaps it was your wife, doing it for you under your nose. (And your very prominent moustache. I must say, it is a fine mustache.) Perhaps your butler, seeking revenge? Your own lawyer, seeking early pay?
Who can say?
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