A short story in construction, working on editing and adjusting. This one is an attempt at flash fiction. If you enjoy it please visit my Short Stories Page to find more.
Today you do not know me, there is no need to, no desire, but I watch, I watch as they come. And they do come streaming across my screen in bright lights of banded little circles, they hoover around us digging at the flesh waiting for their broken teeth to crack the shell. You feel it, the crack crack crack of those yellowed chips digging in their need to devour me. And I just watch, as the teeth dig, for here I am, here I am watching, sitting, unable to dream my dreams until I finish theirs as they stream across my eyes.
Here I am, just here, just sitting, just staring at the screen, the world streams by, the world supplied, the world online, the world of tv shows pouring through my eyes. I drink them in, show after show, story after story, life afterlife, the unoriginality of it is so bland I barely remember as it passes through me. Should I watch it again? Should I sit through it all and see what I missed? But you know I did not miss a thing, I just did not keep it, because it was not worth keeping, even as it sucked away my life drop by drop, episode by episode.
This is an addiction, a drug, a thing I cannot stop even as I tell myself it is all a waste, I sit here, letting it roll through me like broken glass strewn across the street. My wheels are busted and yet I keep driving. Why do I keep driving? I cannot even answer, I just sit here and drown in the images of the least interesting ideas made, acted out by the blandest actors leached of color.
What is there for me to say? To do? To think? To dream? Will the house under the lake ever be built? WIll it take shape with the water falling through the river I have redirected? Or will it be a dream, forever seed, and never fruit? What shall I do? Why do I sit here and watch the uninspired dreams of others? I do not know, but here I sit.
I want to watch my own dreams, to lay back let them flow through me to natural endings until I can frame them into reality, but instead, I sit shackled by images across my screen that slurp away my will to act. I can act once the episode is done, I will act once I finish this season, I will set aside their fantasies once I have completed them.
The world burns, I will put it out when this is over. I would say again that I am chewed up, but I have become too bland to be swallowed as if I was the spice but these teeth have rendered me unseasoned, and unpleasantly I sit while the world rends around me. I will take care of it when this episode is over.
I don’t like any of this, and yet here I am, trapped watching it waiting to fix the world until I am done with now. I will find reality once the black mercy becomes untethered from my mind.
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