a human. for now.
The sun burns my eyes. I drive by feel. Guessing which way the road will turn. I guess wrong. Sometimes there’s a honk or a screech. I guess right and no one cares. A fickle bunch.
“And sometimes I’m pretty sure I’m just wasting my life.” The Phantom was talking to the open wounds on his arm. He created new ones with the stick as he conversed with the old ones.
“No. It’s not your fault. I just don’t know how to live.”
The end of the driveway still seemed nowhere in sight. A voice in high heels echoed behind him.
He moved faster but after a short while his pace slowed again. Soon he was barely shuffling along at all. Every step took a lifetime. He noticed a piece of himself blowing by him in the wind. He caught it and ate it.
The Phantom consoled his wounds.
“Don’t worry they won’t see us. No one sees us.”