I sit back watching multiple pretentious plots crash and burn.
The people in these plots are people around me. I try and think of them in interesting roles. The crazy plant lady becomes a geisha; her lips a bloody red and her leathery neck now smooth and powdered. The man with the limp becomes a detective and wears dark glasses and a hat. He has a gruff voice and thin fingers.
Every time the crazy plant lady walks by, I add a little part in her jigsaw puzzle. Her name is Migaya and she bats her fake eyelashes every three seconds. The silver hair ornament that holds back her tresses is actually a kitchen knife. Then one day, the hunter becomes the hunted.
The detective just buried his wife, because God knows that sometimes the bravest warriors are the ones that shoot at their own feet. He washes up and sits at the table, slathering butter on rubbery toast. He watches the rain come down, knowing that somewhere some grave will be leaking a chalky white liquid that smells like green tea.
The crazy plant lady and the man with the limp sometimes take a cab back home together. I wonder if they know.
The people in these plots are people around me. I try and think of them in interesting roles. The crazy plant lady becomes a geisha; her lips a bloody red and her leathery neck now smooth and powdered. The man with the limp becomes a detective and wears dark glasses and a hat. He has a gruff voice and thin fingers.
Every time the crazy plant lady walks by, I add a little part in her jigsaw puzzle. Her name is Migaya and she bats her fake eyelashes every three seconds. The silver hair ornament that holds back her tresses is actually a kitchen knife. Then one day, the hunter becomes the hunted.
The detective just buried his wife, because God knows that sometimes the bravest warriors are the ones that shoot at their own feet. He washes up and sits at the table, slathering butter on rubbery toast. He watches the rain come down, knowing that somewhere some grave will be leaking a chalky white liquid that smells like green tea.
The crazy plant lady and the man with the limp sometimes take a cab back home together. I wonder if they know.
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