July 26, 2019Resilient and resonant, convicted by cacophonous convictions, pushing past the postulation of precursor—crudely claiming empath whilst coldly and quietly ticking like a time bomb—seething faintly in a far sea past the psyche, the sound of sharp stainless steel cutting through cool, still waters…benighted but beloved, the hours, the minutes, the placid desert nights infinite…
“Excuse me,” she said sitting down slowly next to me and staring like a junky at her phone, holding it maternally with both mitts. She was wearing a powdery perfume that pummeled the senses with pretty petty images of immature days past.
”Hello there,” I uttered with the nicety of nonchalance as I turned to the left to see if the bus was anywhere in sight. The heat was turning the street into a waving asphalt blanket.
”Got the time?” She blurted still plugged in.
“You’re holding a computer in your hand,” I said.
”Oh, whoops, you’re right. Getting overcast. Might rain.”
“Where the hell is this bus?”
”It’s on its way. I catch it every day. Hey, you got an Instafag, or a Facecrook where I can add you?”
”No.”
”Huh? Why not?!”
”Because I choose to live in a real world…in real time.”
”Oh, give me a break, will ya?”
”I wish I could,” I said and pictured myself behind her…snatching her cell phone from her hands and cramming it in her mouth, pushing it as far as I could down her throat. And as she kicked and begged and gasped for air, I’d say, ‘what color are my eyes? What color are my eyes?!’ snapping her neck and smiling as the bones broke.
“Here comes the bus,” she said with her phone in her hand and thumbs ablur.
”Finally,” I said, taking my sunglasses off to wipe the lenses clean.
”Oh, wow, I love your eyes,” she said without looking up.
”Thanks,” I replied, not bothering to tell her I was born without pupils or irises.
∞
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