At 11 AM, I awoke and went to inform my mother that the day was timeless. I then sat amongst it and waited for the thing to recommence/
It didn't.
Later, I
found myself in aisle no. 5 (an obligation valued before the supposed ceasing of time), becoming - !desperado! in aisle no. 5, 5 for baking, because baking is community, comfort, a kiss on the forehead, a dream. Disgusted by the
lighting
of the place, I hurried with my business, out and past the parking lot people who appeared quite oblivious to this state of affairs. One glanced at me, but my aisle 5 eyes took care of the situation.
I woke up in the car, tried my hardest to ignore the fakeness of the dash clock, and pulled
out
into the road, leaving aisle 5 behind in some pop-up book land of apparent responsibility.
And cried, as it is oh so weary to crave death in a place so meant for life.
∞
from summer- im awful at narrativey things, but