Jozef Thoolen
Joined June 2021
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Whir. Prick. Click. Lights on
September 13 When I was young I asked my mother what the injection was for. I still remember the unblinking, ecstatic stare, ever-present on her face. She explained that it was a single daily injection that prevents illness while regulating mood. ‘No more contagion or sadness,’ she said, sniffing mucus back into her system.. She smiled at me like there was an invisible man behind her holding the corners of her mouth with his thumbs. Perspiration covered her forehead in a thin layer, even then in the dead of winter. She was gone within a year, and I’ve concealed my difference ever since in a community of people sustained on artificial pleasures.
By Jozef Thoolen3 years ago in Fiction