Life Just Sort Of Empties Out

Life Just Sort of Empties Out

9:13PM Two teenagers watch a 43-year-old man eat donuts out of the bakery display case at a disused Safeway.

10:19PM Alone in Gold’s Gym, a 25-year-old decides to smell the weight bench; it is as bad as he hoped it would be.

10:48PM Still at work at the blood bank, still smearing cells. Bald and sitting at a computer; can this stranger donate? No. They have AIDS instead.

Outlook>Tools>Forms>Choose Forms>HIVRegret.dotx

11:06PM A ’97 Dodge Neon (white) slows to a stop and a sad dad exits. He posts a “lost Cat” flier on a downtown telephone pole, no staple gun. No staple gun, he makes do with scotch tape, having found the hard way that his home stapler will not suffice.

12:01AM A couple break up and, outside the restaurant, hug. They want it to rain, externalizing their loss, misère-en-scene. But, truer to form, the only thing that precipitates is disappointment, mutual dissatisfaction.

12:27AM A man, already drunk, orders one more drink.

12:36AM A man, already drunk, orders two more drinks.

1:19AM Burglar breaks into studio apartment, fills pillowcase with DVDs, wireless router, some beer. Laptop missing, he takes the external harddrive instead.

1:55AM Small Children (2) still outside. What are they up to?

2:23AM Cardboard box flattened for a mattress on top of broken glass. Luckily, skin calloused and chapped thick enough to not feel it.

3:38AM Concerned that humanity is just a machine by which God converts old grapes into bad smells, an outdoorsy dopamine detractor jerry-rigs a personal purity filter out of torn out bible pages coated with found fluids (various). They are rolled into a cone and placed in the butthole: for purity.

4:01AM By eye, measuring progress in the mirror before embarking on a 12 mile run. By fingers, finding fault. How much further to Fffffart.

5:13AM Crows leave wheatfield to find, eat lost cat; a newspaper, flung, scatters all but one: direct hit.

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