found a fortune cookie in the cupboard while searching for something to quell the savage rumbling i had been attempting to ignore
been in bed all day reading
couldn’t fathom a single reason to rise nor shine
like a thick cloud layer over suburban splendor
more aptly smog over an urban death zone
just another rusted out remnang of former time tested steel
i’ve given up on living between bouts of joyous need
fill my head full of the words of others in an effort to drown the insidious ones singing to me
keep it pitch black in here
music drowning out the sorrow
the occasional lull between songs hints at life outside this jail cell
but even prisoners get their three square meals
and my stomach is rattling the tin cup off the bars in an act of disobedience
so i stumble out of the cave
naked and fearing stepping into the slanted bars of sunshine that mar the living room floor like a grid of lasers to alert the guards of potential jailbreak
quietly pasing through bare cupboards for the smallest bit of sustenance
crumbs in place of delicacies
if you want fed spit out something more than the drek you’ve delivered so far
a masterpiece for a feast
not this dribble
this embarrassment of vocabulary dissent
but with nothing more than strung together incongruence i decided to play good cop
so i creep like a phantom and search
a crinkling of plastic in the far back corner caught my ear
oddly shaped
like a cauliflowered ear
what’s this my gurgling guts proclaimed
a prophecy mass stamped upon thin slips of paper and inserted into a faintly lemon flavored crunchy husk
the remains of fried rice and little chilis
the faintest memories of soy sauce and styrofoam containers
sodden paper bag with the aromas of garlic and bok choy dancing fluidly through the mists of time
let fate decide our fast breaking
let these solemnly printed in red ink words from a random word aggregator define our lives for the day
i almost giggled at the deliciousness of insignificance casting the die on the entire day
dodging spotlights and the well trained noses of the dogs in patrol i made it back to my pen
closed the creaking metal door behind me and crouched in the back corner
if a guard shined his million candlelight beam upon this contraband it would be into the hole with me
the plastic seemed inexplicably loud in the quiet room
the playlist left paused in my harrowing journey
the porous cookie in my hand
now trembling in delight
the acid in my guts bubbling and churning like white water rapids
i snap the treat in two and remove the slip of prophecy
taking care to keep the crunching as close to silent as possible
but it sounds like stones tumbling down from their precipice
an avalanche of mastication
a symphony of kettle drums and gongs
sure to alert the keepers of hidden sweets in the darkened cage
by the flickering light of a lone candle
left unlit except for extreme need
the blood red words were illuminated
a series of numbers
eight, nine, thirteen, twenty three, twenty six, thirty three
i blinked incomprehendingly at this cryptic phrase
ah
these are my lucky numbers
a laugh
tinged with insanity filled my mind
i realized it also filled the room
shh
that was close
the rattle of keys from down the hall and scrape off club against cold stone said the warden almost stood on swollen feet
would have been a beating for sure
i turn the paper over
other hand over the candle flame
too closely
i feel the burning on my palm
the searing of flesh
when i’m sure the coast is clear i read the words inscribed by the Fates for my eyes only
you will die alone
well no shit confucius
i popped the other half of stale cookie into my mouth
dusty sweet with the faintest hint of lemon
gone too quickly and not enough to satisfy the hunger
too disappointed by crimson words of obviousness
dismayed that my hopes and dreams were summed up in four words that had already branded themselves onto my tattered wisp of soul
my secret treat in this one man hell turned out to be yet another teasing glimpse of hope unfulfilled
i blew out the candle and let the oppressive darkness hang upon me like blanket
traitorous guts still grinding
bastard words still humming
the taste of ash from my unfortunate cookie leaving my mouth dry and mind broken
Very good
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