drowning in parKing lot
short stories,  Uncategorized

number 27 , please

a small weep was gasp / d from the windshield wipers that could no longer breathe, drowning in the heavy raindrops dump / d from the torn firmament above. thick n soggy clouds of blacK velvet hung like pregnant spider bellies , heavy w / heavenly waters drip / d by a moody god w / droopy eyelids ; wet bandages flap / d in the empty sky as the rains drop / d .

outside the safety of rubber / d wheels , the parKing lot was flood / d . my car lift / d w / the tide . if i step / d out , i would have been wash / d down the gutter w / the mangy cats n their vile prey , swallow / d by the open mouth of the sewer hole , sucK / d into the city ’ s septic piping . soon , my body would be drown / d , lost n bloat / d , absorbing flush / d mucK n stucK w / gluey feces n bloody wads of gooey cotton until my swollen body distends n explodes n the fleshly morsels putrefy into refilter / d drinKing water .

the murKy parKing lot pool rose pass / d my car ’ s hood , weeping through air vents n melting the car radio . then , a flemish Knot / d rope hit the driver ’ s window , w / out me asKing for help . i swallow / d the panic / d air n held my breath . my elbow shatter / d the window . water mix / d w / candy apple red blood gush / d in n flood / d the plush / d interior n soaK / d my adidas iniKi runners .

i stucK my head through the stranger ’ s noose n went limp .

my body was jerK / d out of my seat n drag / d over jag / d shards of broKen glass . i sunk to the bottom of the oily , gummy parKing lot floor . i was reel / d in liKe i was the fabled three – eyed guppy fish that hid in the pond n came w / a reward if caught . they pull / d me ashore n flop / d my body onto checKer / d linoleum of the doctor ’ s office lobby . a sobering moan from all onlookers at discovery that my scaly – glimmer was nothing more than the shiny csa approve steel of a worthless , worKing – class worK boot they / d snag / d .

“ number twenty – seven , please . ”

my cheeK was cut free from the barb / d cranK sharp hooK n i was flop / d onto a bristly thread / d carpet in a bare n quiet gray room w / an open window n a view of a fire bricK red wall , layer / d w / drips of dried pigeon shit . the sour / d perfume of a rot / d potpourri dish gag / d childhood memories of grandma ’ s bathroom sinK clog / d w / cigarette butts n doll hair n dentures floating in murKy bathtub tap – water in my old golden crisp cereal bowl saucer .

i slouch / d , sorely , into the burgundy velvet lounger , the only chair in the room , besides a rust / d garage wheelie w / rip / d faux leather that someone duct taped every so often .

my gaze was lost in the galaxy of specKs dot /d on the ceiling tiles . an expansive , blacK mold universe across my sKy . clung to a darK , wet , smear was a housefly , hanging above me . it watch /d from behind a shadow cast from a fading lightbulb , liKe a flicKering sun , judging me thru its thousands of eyes n washing its legs in a rapidly starved , circular motion , tirelessly waiting to feast on micro – flaKes of sKin i might shed on that couch once my eyelids slip / d .

the doctor walK / d in . shh . w / the snap of his thumb , color dried from the room …

the fly drop / d from the ceiling . i push / d my body up to run . i went nowhere . my legs moved in slow motion . i stucK where i first stood . sunK in mud . the fly land / d on my bare neck . bit thru my flesh . gnaw / d deep into my concrete bones . laid her eggs in my gelatine spine n slept w / her eyes open .

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