swansandsparrows
the streamers lay limp on the floor, wounded soldiers.
popped balloon remnants scattered across the floor like shell casings.
overturned cake tins. someone open fired on the champagne glasses.
the room: a battlefield.
no more surprise parties.
i set down my tiles.
a-u-x-i-l-i-a-r-y.
and won scrabble.
'just turn it,' i told me.
'just one turn.' i reached out my hand toward the glittering knob, unsure if i could turn it.
i did.
and was not prepared for what was on the other side.
they wrap around me
straining to hold me together
but bandages can never undo what you've done
and i will forever be in pieces.
they call you an adviser.
y u no have advice?
"stop."
she spoke it like it was a suggestion.
the gun in her hand shook.
and went off.
faster
faster
faster
it turned
i couldnt look away, couldnt tear my eyes from the spinning
of
the
turbine.
spectacles never suffer from lack of attention.
it was red and shiny, thats what i noticed first.
it was alone, and it was waiting. thats what i noticed second.
and for some reason that bothered me. not that it was a particular shade of vermillion or that the sunlight flickered off it a certain way at a slant, but that it was waiting.
what for?
writing since 2012 · 9 entries · 9 days shown up
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fasterthatsnoticedwaitingcouldntstophandfloorredshinyalonesecondreasonbotheredparticularshade