Gareth Skettlebones: A View From The Bridge

"I feel..." Gareth paused, he stopped, he grabbed a stool. Samuel the Ferret fell, deseated, to the ground, his tweed coat smeared by the saturated, oily soil. Gareth sighed, waved to him. "I feel like this river gets me. Like, this river knows the world around me. This river captures the swirling indiference of my existence. I feel like I should be reading Husserl whilst riding shotgun". His fellow animal scratched his perfectly style ferret mustache. His claws scraped against the wax plaster of a tablet.
 "What is happening, Samuel. This is not what is meant to be happening. I feel like my world is swirling around me.
  "I feel like this world is not what I want it to be. I wake up every morning and I strive for a goal."
  "You should be yourself." I say, agressively. "I know, I just find it hard. I don't think I can be what you want me to be. I wonder, I think. I feel like those who feel are not those who I feel they were. I feel like people change. I dislike the world around me."
  "I wish I was drunk right now. I have taken my jeans off" The world spins around me. The world is changing around me. Netlfix's calls to me, I don't want to change. I wish the world was ending around me. I feel the same, I feel terrible."
  "Doug is the worst, Doug and Rooney." I die, I don't know what is happening. The world is changing around me. I am changing. They are different. They are changing. I wish I was happy. I wish they would kill me. I wish they would find use for me.
  I hate the feeling when they don't want to kill me.
  I wish they would kill me.
  I wish to end this, to eat them, to feel the beta as fuck orbiters. I want to feel the orbiters.


 Bart feels like he is there. I wish I was like them. The end of them. I'm so hungry.

An Atrium Encounter

Breathe.
Breathe deeply.

Collar bones swelling as a bubble of air forms inside a cavity inside a cage of bones and blood and flesh and skin and lavender scented perfume.

Air rushes through passages, expanding airways, pressing against soft walls and forcing apart the confines of its cell. Lungs balloon against their ribbed restraint, pushing the chest out, exposing it.

I see shifting muscles beneath skin, pale bulges of tension, taut; thick arterial rivers curve boldly against knotted hillocks of swarming mass. I see her turn, ripple.

Life pulses against her skin; across the close space beneath her chin; against the softness of her wrists where veins emerge amongst the denseness of tendons like blue fleshy vines.

Her scent touches my lips, caresses my mind, everywhere; she is gone.