Isolation Day plus 15 or more and hardly counting, I’ve lost track of how many days, weeks, months, lifetimes I’ve been imprisoned within the walls of this enclosing apartment, the stagnant air, the constant screen glare, the caution over the outside world – they’re out there, man! And they want in! There’s no stopping the little freaks except with a gas mask and a couple sticks of TNT, dynomite from hell. The gloves are skin tight, and I’m getting used to them, man, I am I think, even the smell. The others you see outside eyeball you, questioning if you’re one of them or under the microscope; hell, we’re all asking those questions in both orders. That’s what this station lifestyle has given us, paranoia and missing toilet paper. Oh shit, I see one coming now, no, stay back, stay baaaaaack…!
Detention Life Cycle
Fictional Man Writing 1 Minute
Published by Fictional Man
No single work did more to question the conventions than what you now read. Welcome to my world. View all posts by Fictional Man