Sunday, November 23, 2014


Does the dog need to go out?
Is the back door open for him?
What about that strange old man we saw this morning?
He could just wander in.
Would he come in and get close enough that we could smell him?
He's wearing all dark clothes, greasy with dirt, spit and living. He would speak to me a few inches from my face, his breath destroying the oxygen between us.
But I wouldn't be thinking about his smell if he were threatening me with an ice pick. Holding it directly over my heart inbetween two ribs.
Would I say out loud that I don't want to die like this? I don't really mind dying, just not like this.
And why at ice pick? Icepicks aren't common at all. How do you sharpen one? With a rough, rusty file.
How would that damage your organs? A deep, tiny hole? Is it worse than a knife wound?

Wait... how the fuck did I get here?

Oh yeah, the back door.
Does the dog need to go out?

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