For a change, a Manflet man has decided to create something instead of deconstructing shit until it barely exists any more. He's called Neil Sanderson and he's written some prose. Enjoy.
As the day was drawing to a close I was beginning to feel slightly weak and drained. I felt otherworldly whilst being obviously grounded in this current world. I felt the uncontrollably human urge to intake some sugar to possibly level the wobbly feeling that had occupied my body. Having returned to my seat after retrieving a warm chocolatey beverage I sat and prepared to ease my suffering.
This is when it all went wrong. Reaching gingerly for my cup I already knew something bad was beginning. My grasp on the plastic container felt soft and childish and my movements felt like explosions under earth. As the cup melted into my fingers I could only observe as the brown sugary liquid floated over my stationery and my very being. I felt powerless to this torrent of wetness attaching to the very area where I sell my time. As the warm fluid dried its way into my clothing and notepad I began to shake with desperate horror of what this catastrophic event could symbolise. Whilst I sat there like a wasp’s wet dream I felt a sense of change had inadvertently thrust its way into my life and now I must facilitate these new emotions and let them take me where they will.
As the day was drawing to a close I was beginning to feel slightly weak and drained. I felt otherworldly whilst being obviously grounded in this current world. I felt the uncontrollably human urge to intake some sugar to possibly level the wobbly feeling that had occupied my body. Having returned to my seat after retrieving a warm chocolatey beverage I sat and prepared to ease my suffering.
This is when it all went wrong. Reaching gingerly for my cup I already knew something bad was beginning. My grasp on the plastic container felt soft and childish and my movements felt like explosions under earth. As the cup melted into my fingers I could only observe as the brown sugary liquid floated over my stationery and my very being. I felt powerless to this torrent of wetness attaching to the very area where I sell my time. As the warm fluid dried its way into my clothing and notepad I began to shake with desperate horror of what this catastrophic event could symbolise. Whilst I sat there like a wasp’s wet dream I felt a sense of change had inadvertently thrust its way into my life and now I must facilitate these new emotions and let them take me where they will.
2 comments:
Ooh we both posted stuff on the same day, spooky
Jinx!
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