rot knocks
nikolai kingsley
Caught them at it, at last. They knew where all the cameras in the day room
were, because they stayed out of the various lines of sight, rarely showing
up on the monitors. But I was standing in the doorway, watching them crawl
under the tables and around next to each chairbed positioned before the main
screen which kept them sedate.
They'd crouch next to each patient with a tin mug or a paper cup or just one
cupped hand, hold it under the patient's ear and then gently tip their head
to the side. A couple of gentle taps on the side of the head and the dry rot
started sifting into their cups, a light grey powder, about half a cupful in
each head. Then they would crawl back under the table and start scooping the
stuff into their mouths. Within a fortnight, each one would be in a chairbed
of their own. The chairbed would roll them around from dormitory to dining
room to day room to dining room to dormitory, would spoon nutrient mush into
their slack mouths, prop them up to watch television, lay them back at night
in the poses of sleep. Within a month their heads would be dry all the way
through, brains rotted to dust, and some other nerve-licker would sneak in
and knock on their heads until the rot flowed.
I sighed and went back to the security station. half a dozen heroin bees
were drifting about in the air. one landed on my cheek, sensed i was down
and gave me a shot. on one of the monitors a patient fell out of a chairbed
and two nerve-lickers scattered like cockroaches. "Goddamn junkies got no
class to them," I muttered.
ed_...@ymail.com
Mandrachtoff R P
Nikolai Kingsley
>> I sighed and went back to the security station. half a dozen heroin bees
>> were drifting about in the air. one landed on my cheek, sensed i was down
>> and gave me a shot. on one of the monitors a patient fell out of a chairbed
>> and two nerve-lickers scattered like cockroaches. "Goddamn junkies got no
>> class to them," I muttered.
>
> What happens to the "God revereing Goddamn junkies born into the slave class"? I'm sure some do not remain there.
chairs. it's cruel, yes, but i don't make the rules.
--
"A little black, a little yellow, beaten in confusion. Hums no more for
not wearing wings. Life no longer offered and the Queen sees soldier
crawling on the ground in despair. Death is a fact. Oh, where did the
summer road, buddy? All our tours and adventures. Floating in sweat,
grains, blood and tears. Do not leave me, baby. A little black, a little
yellow, all innocent. Buzz, buzz, buzz, knocking on heaven's durr. "
-poem written after "Hasse" died having sex with a wasp nest
(translated from the Swedish by Bing)
nikolai kingsley
> What happens to the "God revereing Goddamn junkies born into the slave class"? I'm sure some do not remain there.
--
Guru: Naaaaail!!!
Nail: What!?
Guru: I saw a bird. It was pretty. Kick its ass.
- DBZ Abridged Episode 5: Vegeta kills bugs dead