Cheeky

My phone lay in my lap with the disgruntled warmth of springtime fuzz. A bead of sweat made a stereotypical route down my left cheek and landed, and curdled, and died in the hollow of my ear. I shuddered at the impact and momentarily found myself telling my Grandmother that her pancakes were very good, and they most certainly wouldn’t discourage me to eat any pancakes again for the rest of my life.

The bus was full and my elbow was touching the elbow of another. Despite the additional lubrication of combined effervescent disgust, bone scraped against bone, all satisfactory sense of gristle evaporated in the opening of a window. The stickers warned against such an activity, the air-conditioning wouldn’t work, you bovine creatures. My elbow fused with the drooping scabs of my companion. I felt the familiar collection of damp accumulate in my seat, leather for your comfort. We sat in our mutual understanding of virtual self-urination. We were forever one.

A woman on the bus had a baby under her arm, fashionably hanged like a flesh feast for the buzzards, which flocked to its form; elderly formations of skin and teeth cooing at the imagined future (management style for the cannibalistic masses). They said it was cheeky. Cheeky, cheeky, cheeky, cheeky, cheeky. It gurgled and a liquid ball foamed from one of its nostrils. Cheeky, cheeky, cheeky, cheeky, cheeky. The rabbits on the traffic island outside were nowhere in view. Cheeky, cheeky, cheeky, cheeky, cheeky. They pulled at its legs and it wobbled its head.

I looked for recognition in the amassed crowd around the entrance. They couldn’t possibly fit another human in. A single face swathed in uniform looked beyond my pleading eyes to the back of my skull. A bead of sweat made a route down my companion’s arm and landed, and curdled, and died inside my clasped palm.

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About Anna

Author of the Insanity Aquarium. Current fears include time as a concept, the squishiness of my right eyeball, and not being able to open this jar.
This entry was posted in Darkness. Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to Cheeky

  1. I really like your style and hate most other people’s.

    If you ever want to team up, I am game.

    Like

  2. Anne Schilde says:

    Mmm… I’ve missed my filet of kitten. This gave me more creeps than your creepiest creepy story, Anna. Just awesome! I hated every last second of it! ♥

    Like

    • Anna says:

      Thank you Anne! I must confess I have been on a bit of a roll today. Publishing for the first time in months AND pizza. Like, actual pizza, Like, I actually picked up the phone and ordered a pizza. Like, WHO AM I.

      P.S I miss and love you.

      Like

    • Anne Schilde says:

      Hehe! I went for pizza last night actually.

      Someone said “sock balls” outside my office door the other day and I made her read Detective Wooly. ♥

      Like

  3. darkjade68 says:

    Sounds like someone is ready to be a momma… Err… Maybe not, Lol

    The only happy ending I can imagine, is if there are fire sprinklers on the bus, and they suddenly go off…

    Nice piece Anna

    DJ-

    Like

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