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Martin Narrod May 2014
Hallucinating Bureaucracies and auditory Hallucinations : When the voice in your head speaks when you don't want it to, to head's of State not present. I could snuggle in bed if I wanted to, but I've got to orchestrate and reorganize the Clinton dowry. It started outright with trying on a purple, yellow, and blue button down shirt that had Scabies in the sleeve- and now you're all going to know why Mr. and Mrs. Obama don't want to talk to me about potentially increasing livestock traffic across the Americas. I think could practice will follow from such a manure, I mean maneuver. I pick up 10 or so bottles of plastic single-serve water for consumption in my apartheid room. It's awful in here. The gold disappears from the mines, and even the hands I used to work with are blurring up in the twister, and as much as you call or don't call I have no business managing your intentions- only mine. Some barrge of women over thirty. But still there isn't a problem. The river is beginning to flood, and the fishery's stockpile is running low. Maybe we ought to empty out an African mass grave and fill it with blacklists of co-conspirators and then make a drake or a flume out of the narrow walkways between the cities. Then maybe we'll have water to last us through the dry season.----------------------------------------------------------­--------------------------------- Where in the world is Sam in Hammond, Can Diego? Forklifting pillars, bribing monkeys, playing with his Mickey Mouse and Michelob, catching the taller, eighteen and up crowd catch the last car riding the rapid drop from Space Mountain through, "It's a Small World After All:"  

It's a world of laughter a world of tears, it's a world of hopes and a world of fears. There's so much that we share, that it's time we're aware- it's a small world after all."  

And then he takes the biggest gulp of water into his mouth that I've ever seen the man take, and he puts it in a small cooler that's strapped to the back of his calf, and he swears to me that the aeroplanes are going to come loop around, and when they do their glorious water-landing, he and I, or rather, the both of us, will be saved. Saved, hm? I don't even bother sharing insights or my insides. I quickly flash him the most-pod horrific a tryst that irons down a photo of Egon and I back in the Old City, what was it, Chicago, or something that very much sounded like Chicago. Could be totally awesome and I'll chime in that now is the time when we do our work best. That's all. Intrepid,
Sydney Marie Apr 2014
Its like nothing words can describe.
One minute you're there, but it happens all to fast to know why.
But why does it all matter?
Nothing does.
At every step of the way, its like nothing before.
It doesn't make sense, but than again, it doesn't need to.
When things happen you can't stop them.
They have to happen.
Not only for you, but for the development of your life and who you are going to be as a person.
It's not fate.
It's what needs to happen.
KRB Apr 2014
For ****'s sake, Carol. My heart just stopped for a little. I’m not dead yet.
“Oh, Frank...”
*Don’t ‘Oh, Frank’ me. I’m perfectly fine, see? Just help me get my boots on.


Being in the hospital is a lot like being in prison, but with more fluorescent lights and the constant smell of death and tongue depressors. I want to go home, but I can’t seem to move my legs. Or my arms. Or anything. I want to scream at the ******* who keeps messing with my IV, but I can’t find my words. I think she’s starting to get the hint thanks to the speedy and steady beeping of my heart monitor and my amazingly high blood pressure. I have to go. Now.
They say I may never make it out of here. To hell with them. There’s nothing I want more than to sit in my recliner, open a cold one or five and watch the Big Blue beat Brady one last time. Heh, the look on his face when we ruined their perfect season. Still one of the greatest sights in my lifetime.
“Hello, Mrs. Rosecrans.”
Oh, Jesus Christ. Not this airhead again. Don’t you talk to my wife.
“Dr. Wasser, he looked at me today. He’s there. I see it. Are you sure?”
“Based on the CAT scans we’ve taken, the possibility of him waking up is very, very slim.”
“But he looked at me...”
“It was just a reflex. Look, if I pinch his skin, I’m not getting a reaction.”
What is the matter with you? Going around pinching people who can’t yell back... I wish I could give this guy a piece of my mind right about now.
“Okay. So, what can we do?”
Her voice is shaking. I want to tell her that there’s nothing to worry about.
“At this point, we would need you to start coming to a decision.”
The room goes silent, and I can hear my barely beating heart sink.
I don’t want to die here.
Flash fiction based on the song "I Don't Wanna Die (In the Hospital) by Conor Oberst

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