And it’s just the tick tick tick of the clock—
And it’s just the tick tick tick of the clock—
And it’s just the tick tick tick of the clock—
And it’s just me standing here in this brown wall.
I should not be here.
I am.
Get over it. Get over it. Get over—
My face is pressed sideways against the wood grain. The wood grain is pressed sideways against my back. My back keeps bitching to my nerves and they keep bitching to my brain, but it’s just the tick tick tick of the clock here. Because I can’t be here. So I can’t move.
There’s a black spider above me. He’s been catching all the dust in this place in his neat and organized web. He’s been catching all the bugs unlucky enough to scuttle into his neat and organized world. My hair has caught on the web. I am shirtless. I am pantless. My clothing huddles in my arms. The spider keeps on creeping down its one string, long and invisible except for the thousand worthless gems that glimmer in the light of the crack on the wall. Through that crack is a blue eyed girl with matching tracery that clutches to her curves. Through that crack I hear the tick tick—
You think that I don’t know? Know what? You really think that I don’t know? Jonathon. What are you talking about? Amy. You know goddamn well what I am talking about. Stop this. Stop what? Calling you out on Just on the stop truth? it. What exactly Jon—am I Jon—stoJonppingathon. Jonathon. What? Amy. WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY HAVE TO SAY RIGHT NOW? Jonathon. Yes Amy, that is Jonmyanamethan. FuJonckayouthan. WhereThereisishe?no reason for you to be mad. Really? Yes. Where is he? There is no You he are a lying bitch. Why would say that JonStopasaythaning my name. You don’t have a right to my name. You do Jonnotahavethan. a right to that name. IT IS MINE. It is mine. Johnath—
And then he hit her.
And then he sat down, staring at the stranger at the end of his arm.
And then he started to cry.
And now it’s just the tick tick tick of the clock.
