Amphetamines

He rested his arm on the shoulder of the chair. It was a

Summer afternoon in Chicago, and we lived in a single bed-

room apartment-- Top floor. I watched the light shine over his

Chair, his wife beater looking grey and ragged in the sunlight, and

I touched his arm. He pushed me away. I touched his arm, and

A Dragon shoved me away. Its scales, like a million lights reflecting,

Projected onto the walls.

Stop.

Don’t breathe.

He was sitting in his chair, I touched his arm, and he pushed me

Away. A way to see if I was wrong. Was he right? I was wrong.

Maybe I wasn't meant to live near lights.

I broke. Dragon wiped my tears, but he lie stagnant.

It gave me my eyes: I was blind. The Dragon breathed in the

Amphetamines, and exploded in a stream of lights.

Dragon died.

I cried.

My eyes, dragon eyes-- but Dragon dies; I cry.

The hollow space inside wants more young to eat

He saw me, covered in dragon blood, but stayed in his

Chair, his wife beater looking grey in the sunlight. Did he

Wonder if the reason why his wife was covered in dragon blood, on a

Twilight summer evening in Chicago, was related to dead wives:

Deceased in suburban apartments?

Reviews

[Goat]

Great job, this story is nicely written and flows well. It tells a great story. Wonderful job!

[Meek McGee]

Thanks! I thought the surrealistic elements might have made it a little incoherent at times, so I'm glad that you felt it flowed well and made sense.