Do you know what chaos is? It’s uniform. Like nothingness.
Rushes of lightning gauged my eyes. Molten metal ripped splintered holes in my torso. I didn’t lay down. Violent combustion rocked me to my core, sending limbs flying in a technicolor spasm of every sense. We were heroes. Kill them, fuck them, blow them all to hell. We couldn’t lose, we couldn’t stop, we couldn’t slow the rising crescendo’s blinding crash as it endlessly screamed on.
Take me out.
It’s all blaring static.
Darkness fell on me like a tonne of bricks.
My body sank to meet me in the floor, pulling me up into its dead inky mass. Sleep paralysis weighted me down while I regained my reality, eyes inching open.
As I sat up on the pad of my apartment floor, I struggled to breathe.
Nausea welled up as my heart pounded. I yanked the wires from my neck, stood up. It was mere steps to the back of my apartment. There, my bathroom, a tiled shower over an open toilet and mildewed curtain. I punched the stick-light over the mirror and leaned in, pressing my forehead to the surface, gripping the sink.
My breath fogged the glass as I looked under my brow into shadowed green eyes.
This fucker again.
No windows, wide and long, my apartment was a casket for pacing in, closing in around me.
Here it comes. Continue reading
The bus stopped.
Skrimp, Wally, Dag, and I lived in the same building. As much as that meant something hundreds of floors apart, it meant our ride was shared every day home. Even if in silence, at best texting feet apart. I cherished our quality time.
The bus had pulled under a massive overhang of concrete, stopping at the curb there. My eyes swept the yellowed depths of the opening hall to the building, glancing back at the grey street behind and its traffic. Back, peering through pillars to the revolving bars which prohibited the way into the building itself. A small throng of the homeless off to the right watched our blacked out ride.
Up and at em.
Stagnant water at my feet, inches deep, broke under my rainboots as I hopped down from the bus.
The others pushed out behind and around me in a quickly dissipating crowd. People I had nothing but the slightest familiarity with. No better than Phillip.
We all walked to put some space between ourselves and the curb. I stopped then where I was to tap out my last coffin nail.
Dag and Skrimp kept going on but Wally paused by me. Continue reading
You know what every person needs when they may be dying at four in the ᴀм? Spicy noodles.
Maybe that was me.
The asphalt was flowing with dark water. My eyes fixed on my feet as I ducked out into the downpour, the technicolor lights dancing in my blurred sight. Under my hood, the sound of rain on plastic filled my ears.
I knew I’d ridden the elevator to ground level, turned left on B4-2 street. My eyes barely open, I had to stumble back as my foot unexpectedly dropped. That was the road. I’d catch a face of wind kicked spray if I looked up for the signs. So, I felt my way, veering left again around the building’s corner.
The pouring suddenly stopped and I ran a hand through my hair, pushing back the hood.
Concrete was above, crossing over the road from one building to the next. Inset into the wall beside me was a vending machine. The face glowed brightly, a haze of red and orange backlighting the weather-worn menu. Under pretty pictures and aside vibrant, happy food characters, items were listed.
Something funny about this machine. Continue reading