leviathanstaar
01-02-2010, 02:11 PM
in an ongoing short story I write.
Thanks for reading.
A daydream:
*ringing phone*
"hello?"
Hey I have a question for you.
"umm sure whats up"?
What year is this?
"what?"
The year. What year is it I'm serious.
"it's.....2010"
What? Who the hell told you that?
"zero"
Who is zero?
"err huh?"
You just said zero told you it was 2010.
"no I didnt"
"are you feeling ok Adam?"
My name isnt Ad...
---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------
'We're sorry, your call cannot be completed as dialed'.
'This is a recording'
A small trickle of blood rolls down my upper lip. I taste it as it descends into my mouth.
I reach for it to make sure it doesnt reach my clothing,
and there is nothing there.
I need to walk. Cold air. Crows.
Those unexplainable crows. Hundreds in each tree.
It appears there is something on my mind today.
Something I want to realize. But that's not even the right word is it?
No. The right word is remember.
Every time I try it feels like I'm going to die.
And coming back? Dawning on me suddenly again that I am here.
A pile of flesh and bone. I can only say full body nausea and severe discomfort to describe this.
It occurs to me, to go look in the mirror.
'What does the mirror do', I for some reason think to myself.
A moment occurs that should not nessecarily be, and somehow still is, horror.
I am the mirror.
Thanks for reading.
A daydream:
*ringing phone*
"hello?"
Hey I have a question for you.
"umm sure whats up"?
What year is this?
"what?"
The year. What year is it I'm serious.
"it's.....2010"
What? Who the hell told you that?
"zero"
Who is zero?
"err huh?"
You just said zero told you it was 2010.
"no I didnt"
"are you feeling ok Adam?"
My name isnt Ad...
---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------
'We're sorry, your call cannot be completed as dialed'.
'This is a recording'
A small trickle of blood rolls down my upper lip. I taste it as it descends into my mouth.
I reach for it to make sure it doesnt reach my clothing,
and there is nothing there.
I need to walk. Cold air. Crows.
Those unexplainable crows. Hundreds in each tree.
It appears there is something on my mind today.
Something I want to realize. But that's not even the right word is it?
No. The right word is remember.
Every time I try it feels like I'm going to die.
And coming back? Dawning on me suddenly again that I am here.
A pile of flesh and bone. I can only say full body nausea and severe discomfort to describe this.
It occurs to me, to go look in the mirror.
'What does the mirror do', I for some reason think to myself.
A moment occurs that should not nessecarily be, and somehow still is, horror.
I am the mirror.