Thursday, June 13, 2013


Three blinks and two rheumy fingertips reminded Isaac of his piercings. Specifically, the battalion of lymph with which his body harangued the rings in his face. His body didn't want them there, in his lip and eyebrows. For three years, his immune system fought off these intruding pieces of metal with crust and pus…a substance no different from the crystals he woke to mine from the corners of his eyes.

His eyes. What was his body trying to tell him?

Butane-blackened spoon in hand, he fully intended to listen.

No comments:

Post a Comment