ulimonster
Sitting at the machine, I prepared myself for the day ahead. What story would I tell myself today as I sewed 300 pairs of shoes? Perhaps that one with the knight...
Sitting on the couch, the heavy air and the soft cushions pushed in all around on my weak limbs. Silver sweat was on his brow as well, but his crossed arms sneered against the will of the humidity and against my sluggishness.
Is my orbit of the display noticeable? It is such a beautiful necklace, it would be a shame for it to never be worn just because it’s too expensive. I pretend to look at other things while my thoughts whirl closer and closer to my little plan. I ask a sales associate to take it out of the case for me.
He lifted one last forkful of his dinner. Chew, swallow.
Across the table, an empty plate.
He had forgotten Jay wasn't going to be coming home in time for dinner.
I looked down at my dress and rubbed the silk between my fingers. It sounded much less smooth than it felt. The hard scratch of noise contrasted the soft pink and the gentle sheen. My heart was plummeting fast even though I had every reason to be happy.
I shuffled through the contents of the bag, deciding that drawing out the time spent reviewing my situation would keep me from getting grumpy. They outfitted us all with some essentials like toothbrushes and soap, but my stomach sank when I picked up the gun, though I was not surprised.
I never look up when we drive past. I'm so scared of them. I'm scared because I can't believe that it's all about brainwashing. People are smart. They know what they're doing.
I could feel my limbs pulsing with energy and was doing all I could to move and break free of this strange experience. Everything around me was speeding up and blurring out as I slowly rose off the ground, held by some invisible thread through my back.
I had made my bed. Put away all my clothes. Fed and bathed myself. Vacuumed, even. I stood in the middle of my room, with the plain white walls I could never seem to cover, and slowly turned around.
I started to scrub the deck even harder once I heard him start talking. Everyone else listened to his tale rapturously, but they had never heard it before. Instead of listening for the hundredth time, I blocked out the self-assured boasting, simple-minded oohs and ahhs, and the screaming of my own limbs from exhaustion. The deck wasn't going to scrub itself.
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writing since 2011 · 40 entries · 37 days shown up
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remembernowsimpleemptyhomehandheardprobablystoodassuredlimbsmisshairtryingmiddlescratch