My ideals aren’t met because your qualifications keep falling short.

I close my eyes and don’t see a thing, only jolts of light making my body jump in response. The tingling bubbles in my Pepsi bring me back to my desk. SHWISH, pothole, SHWISH. It has rained and you are a car going by. Blocks of black ice frost to my feets, some day my hair will be long, there should be a comforter around here somewhere.

Routine, routine, routine, when will the cycle break? Nobody likes asking for help, so this changes nothing. Pride’s hard to swallow when you’re trying to seem responsible. 

Empty pockets meet with empty days, where I get continually good at sniping people in video games.

Any other distractions? I wish.

“Are ya’ll finished with these plates?”

In a slow and shaky gesture, I reach down and pick up the lady and gentleman’s  square plates. Damn, that must’ve been a good meal. As I near the “IN” door, I glance over my shoulder to check Table 5’s water glass situation. All full.

The back of the house is humid and smells like food scraps, old people’s lipstick, and a fresh steak being cut, all at once. My stomach goes through the stages of disgust mixed with nausea and then to complete hunger. As my stomach’s slight cooing turns into angry audible gargles, my eyes fall to the plate I’m about to leave by the dishwasher.

One lamb shank. Just one, untouched… and it’s mine.

As I turn into my neighborhood, the last of the cars following me gets swallowed by the trees lining the road. The pavement is wet and gritty, I love the sound so I roll down my window and drive slowly toward my street. The bit of fog surrounding each looming streetlamp matches perfectly with the crushing of tiny pebbles and gravel on the asphalt. I’ve missed the smell of a humid night’s air in the woods, it provides a nostalgic comfort to me but I can’t possibly stay here for too long. 

Sometimes I lay on the bed with my feet in the air and pretend to walk on the ceiling. It helps me clear my head.

wowph, wowph, wowph. I’ve been staring at this ceiling fan for hours. I don’t even see a blending circle shape anymore, nope, just the individual blades. Come onnnn, get up! My brain is bored with this dull activity but tonight I refuse to let it make my choices, and I stay put.

wowph, wowph, wowph, wowph. I drift off…

I touch the cool brick to my face. God, what a relief. The texture isn’t my favorite but the temperature is almost always right. Even when there’s a roaring fire behind it. My eyes well up and chalky tears streak my cheeks. Too much smoke. Open the floo! A drop of blood lands on my palm.

The snowflakes seem confused, they keep smashing into each other mid-air. As they are falling, they pick the spot on the ground they wish to land on. One gentle flake lands on the tip of my nose. I look up to the sky and today even the clouds and sun are snowed in too. The back of my head is freezing, I should have worn a hat, but the tiny world of dancing white before me is too mesmerizing for me to do anything about it. My own private snow show. I spread my arms and legs simultaneously and then pull them back in, repeat. Fifteen minutes later, it’s as if I were never even here at all. Hey, I tried to leave my mark.

It will be finding the balance. Leaving behind everything I’ve put up with. Lonely? Always, but I’m too sick to my stomach with this excitement to notice anymore. At this point I’m left with only the hope that this is right. I want it to be. I need inspiration. How do I execute the strangeness of it all? I’ll search for perfection as always and end up with a beautifully creepy mess. Deadpan.

“Give me your soul,” he sneered.

“Um.. I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean…” How do I give someone my soul?

I curtsied and smiled.

I looked up an saw his yellow eyes flash with rage. I hope he doesn’t kill me.

“I’M HUNGRY! GIVE ME YOUR SOUL!”

He snarled while thrashing around like a rabid fox. A wad of his spit flew off of him and landed on my lower lip. Why is my lip numb?

My jaw froze and with a wave my body was completely paralyzed. I was lifted into the air by absolutely nothing and rattled around like a rag doll. When gravity caught a hold, I was hurdled to the ground. Woozy from the fall, I began to feel nasueous.

I gasped for air as my throat became thick and I salivated heavily onto my lap. In a flash of heat and sweat, I strained my body and out came a soul. It was thick and black with a glowing red center.

“You’ve got a black soul?!!”

I stared blankly at him, drained of any feelings.

“But everyone knows that people with black souls always…”

I wish I hadn’t passed out.

I played my favorite online game 15 times.

I didn’t win once.

My eyelids are being peeled open by tiny mechanical arms, I

think I’m awake?