I didn't eat normal food for five days with my eyes wide shut.
The lemon lime fish tacos and TV show detective sitcoms my roommates/complete strangers left me were over for five days expired, on the middle shelf of the fridge before they went, SPLAT! SPLAT! against the back wall of the chrome kitchen garbage can; I have been living off loose chapskin that have been ripped off my lips hours at a time.
Raw: my lip sting, they have been flogged and carved up by a miniature man, and his family. Right hands and fingers formed a cat o' nine tails; the left hands are 20 inch Bowie knives.
Blood sprung out of a natural spring, and pooled in my mouth.
Each family member got a fancy wine glass out of the china-wear display, dipped it in the blood, the father raised his glass, "Success follows hard work. All of you will continue to benefit from your dedication to the cause. I love each and everyone of you. This winter, we shall prosper. Cheers," clinks, swallowed, and chugged the rest until they dropped, and stopped breathing.
Fuck!
I tried to save them with my pinky by performing CPR, but crushed them like ants instead, legs and arms still twitching..
A flaky glob of fish, sun-dried tomatoes, onions, vegetable oil, red peppers, and lettuce wearing a coat of sriracha, hit the floor like a meteor forcing me to clean up my garbage.
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