Object Writing, Prose & Poetry Forum

February 20, 2019, 06:14:49 PM
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This week's words;

Sunday - Instructions

Monday- Motorcycle

Tuesday- Wildflower

Wednesday- Asparagus

Thursday- Stopwatch

Friday - Confetti

Saturday-Homesick



Word of the Day
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Author Topic: Belt buckle  (Read 25 times)
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FunkySea
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« on: February 12, 2019, 03:34:33 PM »

I try to close the buckle. I canít really see it it feels awkward to bend my neck I still try and I feel a stretch in my neck muscles but my mind is already protesting and arguing at the futility. Just close the thing itís saying. I bend even more and now a prickly feeling is the danger warning that Iím not supposed to be doing this. A written permission it seems must be procured by the central agency. A long dark corridor with floor panels that look hand painted and the carpet has black jagged lines running its length like a land parallel to the green glowing exit lines in planes. I already feel the static generated as my sneakers touch and rub the synthetic material. The same stuff Iím made of but this looks like a carpet. The floor is quiet I note with satisfaction but my mind is full of creaks already. The absence of them is a revolution for my inner voice. I pick a door and touch the powdered chrome the handle broadens stylishly away from the stem. The wallpaper is brown and the smooth wall is made of white marble it doesnít look solid. A crumbling Greek temple looks solid and immovable. These smooth and perfect walls look like sheetrock. Iím looking for cracks. Looking for where they may have put them up crooked. Sound waves swirl around me like a vortex. If it was water it would be a tornado. And I hear the clack clack clack of heels and the more subdued bap bap of leather heels from menís shoes. And my sneakers creak. Thereís a yellow cone on the floor and a man in a blue overall is
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