Click. Click.
This is nothing like the brochure.
If you want the full experience: https://youtu.be/n8sLcvWG1M4
Click, click.
I play with it while thoughts are frantic and my soul is split.
Its heavy but comfortably hurts; my conscience is thick.
I remember other times just like this.
Click, click.
The metal gets heavier and I am sick.
Click and slower, deliberate click.
Is this the one?
Is this it?
Coward.
Stop playing with it.
Click.
About the Creator
Mark R. Cieslak
"Our lives are madness. Trying so hard to make moments, take moments. Nothing but pianos in a storm."
"I hear the singing."
"What singing? You never said..."
"Ah boy, what singing indeed."
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More stories from Mark R. Cieslak and writers in Poets and other communities.
We'z Walking on a Path Ruled By Numbers
This road has felt endless, yet limited; every step tracked. Inching away along this path, I feel trapped. Confined. Left to this narrow passage that may one day amount to something greater. Time is not a concept. Only distance. From start to finish, I laugh and cry and attempt to convince myself that this is worth it. I cannot stray. I must keep going. Every step etched, is a step taken, is measured as more than before. I cannot even recall how I got here. Maybe I don’t even really exist. Just another tick marking off a perceived presence. Of what though? I am just another line drawn. Nothing more, nothing less.
By Oneg In The Arctic7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Oh. OH MY. 😳 this was good