Printed from WriteWords -


by  md

Posted: Friday, January 20, 2006
Word Count: 244

Content Warning
This piece and/or subsequent comments may contain strong language.

Ugly, it is ugly. People all around are cast down in misery, dejection, pain, fear, loneliness and suffering. Itís an evil and contagious plague, a pandemic afflicting the drudging masses. I donít know what Iím doing here.
ĎGet out of it! Run away. Do anything,í he said.
And in that one moment he incited a revolution in me. His words scorched a passionate message of freedom into my soul.
ĎOK!í I shout. ĎIím doing it! Iím getting off this fucking steel coffin now!í
Overwhelmed by my newfound zeal, I struggle to my feet as the people around me stare, shocked, their weird brooding silence shattered by me, a half-crazed infiltrator, an outsider. Like a scene from the Invasion of the Bodysnatchers they stare slack-jawed, even pointing, and I make a run for the door. Lunging headlong into the crush of people, with the lust for life translating into a deep, violent, atavistic rage inside me, I fight these moping ghouls which cling like napalm. I scream like a tripped-out junkie gripped by the fear, flailing my arms wildly, painfully aware of the need to hurry.
There isnít much time.
The doors are closing.
They wonít let me escape.
Weighted down by their oppressive melancholy, I can feel the passion ebbing away. Their apathy paralyzes me. I feel the flame in my soul quenched by a sea of sludgy gloom. What else can I do in the face of this inexorable adversary?
I have succumbed.