Hello . . . this is Joe. Welcome to A Daily Drabble. Please add 100 words of prose or poetry as a comment on any date you want and in any order you want. Please reply on the drabbles you like. I'll moderate the comments at night, and they'll appear the next day. This is for everyone!
The projection sweeps and circles the floor looks cross between the print-pattern on a designer scarf and a cutout from Munch’s Scream—more especially, like the pattern imprinted on a scarf by Iris Van Herpen that I want to purchase for my mom were it in stock. Clearly, ice cream has nothing to do with these hypnotics. Clearly, your marrow has a yen for fucking up my blastulas. We would nurse the damage to utmost ill—call ourselves heirs apparent to ineptest progenitor. But some kid will write about what we’ve made in their application to Stanford and get admitted.
ReplyDeleteThrough the mirror’s endless reflections, our doppelgangers move as we move. A slight turn of the head, and the same cord winds up a willowy neck—my neck. With each step Octavia takes, her sable locks swing behind her. But her movements are not as sure as mine. The swirls of neon blue try to dissuade us from walking the path, encouraging us to wander into tangent galaxies that lead into dead ends. Absolute silence is required to walk the ontological labyrinth, so we use gesticulations instead of speech, warning each other when we step off of the interstellar furrows.
ReplyDeleteI really enjoy the last sentence--but wouldn't the foot-steps themselves make some noise and interfere with "absolute silence"? Still--heck yes for "ontological labyrinth" and, especially, "interstellar furrows."
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