– tony.espino –

a human. for now.

30.16 | june

chronicle of an unreliable voice

Folder 6

I can sleep behind the wheel of any automobile at any hour even this early in the morning. It’s a wonderful superpower if you’ve ever wished to die in your sleep. Sometimes I slap myself in the face which I’m sure is funny and then quite frightening to the driver in front of me. My brain makes no distinction between my surroundings and a boring late night infomercial. I usually have coffee in my hand. It no longer makes me stay awake. Maybe if I poured it in my eyes. I once knew a kid who did that.


“I can’t believe we did it!”
“I don’t even miss them.”
“It’s like a new found freedom.”
The two sailors were staring at their hands minus their pinkies. They felt for the first time in a long time. For a while they considered the possibility that perhaps they were dead. That was before they decided to remove their pinky fingers. But now, equipped with the awareness of their aliveness, the only question that remained was: how to live?


I watched him do it several times. Pour hot coffee in his eyes. “I need to wake up, man.” He always had coffee in one hand and a beer in the other. The only thing he loved more than beer and coffee was Chinese food and boobs. I once watched as he let the members from a rock band urinate on his foot for a dime bag of cheap weed, and the opportunity to feel up their female groupie. She agreed to it beforehand, but like a true lady she reneged on the offer. His piss-soaked feet may have been a deal breaker. But he did make off with the dime bag of weed which he later sold to buy Krystal Vy Chinese food.

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This entry was posted on July 5, 2016 by in art, funny, humor, journal, writers, writing and tagged , , , , , , , , .

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