I walked to her house – no one home. I walked to her old job – its been boarded up. I’m not getting use to my dementia yet.
It loomed. Whatever it was, just hung there in the sky – breathing, looming.
“Excuse me?” The man hunched below in his long coat, pulled his hands out of his pockets. His body shook with guilt because lingering freshly in his mind was his recent murder along with the dark sooted blood that remained beneath his fingernails. And so the looming man dropped out of the sky and deep into guilt’s veins.
It ate thoughts and swallowed them like bubbles. The “Thought Fish” was once believed to . . . wait I’ve forgotten why I have one.
I lost a finger today. Oh no. I found it. 😛
The monster under my bed hates the monster in my closet. If they kill each other, I’ll just have to worry about the monsters in my head.
I picked the flower out of the ground. It was the last of its kind and soon, much like the flower, I will be plucked from this earth.