… and go to sleep listening to the sound of the sea, and maybe never wake up.
by Chris Killen
I live inside an abandoned bicycle. No one would want to ride it, anyway. It has no saddle. I am incredibly sensitive. Sometimes things like the sound of rain or the feeling of rain touching my body feels very painful and I begin to cry. There is nothing I can do about this. If I want to look at myself, I use a mirror that I have made out of a crisp. Sometimes I think I look very handsome, and want to show my reflection to someone else.
I found the crisp inside the mouth of a cat. I stole the crisp out of the mouth of the cat. The cat chased me and tried to scratch me, but I scared it off by shouting things at it. I shouted rude things, cat-things, things I wouldn’t want to repeat.
When I get home I sometimes take off my suit and put on a dress that I have fashioned from an empty packet of hula hoops. I put the dress on and slink around like a lady and watch myself in the crisp. Sometimes I get an erection, but I am not sure what to do. It makes me feel confused.
Time goes very fast. I am like a dog or a cat in this respect (I think I read that once at work, on the internet, that dogs and cats live seven times faster than normal people).
In my spare time I read books from the library. I like reading novels by John Steinbeck the best. Even the small ones (Of Mice and Men, etc.) are very big for me to hold. Sometimes I crawl in between the pages and wrap them around me and go to sleep in them. Sometimes I wake up and find I have drooled a bit on the page and made a little window through to the next page, and sometimes I put my head through the window and say things to myself.
My days go very quickly.
I will probably die soon.
Don’t worry about me.
This story was written by Chris Killen and “bought” by Sara Crowley for the price of a packet of Hula Hoops. Sara, who decided to submit it, blogs at A Salted where you can read the bizarre tale behind this bizarre tale.