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Friday, April 20, 2012


He sampled the future in echoes of the past, made are were, before is even was.
He transgressed, then transgressed again. He overslept, shamefully overslept, his world reduced to the space between two sheets. Unsustainable, unacceptable as an adult. Frequently achieved. 
He did a wonderful impersonation of a reasonable man.
His mouth was a crooked scar on a plump face.
Lopsided and tightly incised. Shaving, he looked sullenly into his reflection, then cast his eyes down to the basin. The water was black, which is as natural a colour for water as any other. His mood was similarly dark, a tint so familiar, so frequently applied as to become its natural tone too. He longed for a lightness.