Boxed-in-Being

Warehouses stockpile sentience and colonize government sponsored land, as stayed discussions on methods of survival illicit standardized conformity compared to a slouch, missing teeth, conversations with the wall and bursts of frustration accumulating in violent acts, adding to the calamity of housed consciousness in competition for bread. 

Stale glucose crumbs litter the ground and espouse crescendo crunches as weighted steps demolish their tiny frames. Bunk-beds pressed to walls dawning yellow wallpaper, complimented by a hole made from a child’s crooked fingernail, who discovered a tear in the print and pinched the jagged edge, tugged at it like they were turning the page of their Bible looking for answers. 

Reruns of Keeping Up With The Kardashians played on the television, in their playroom. Sentient-B lifted a plastic stegosaurus and marched it along the windowpane, gale struck the glass and shifted it within the frame, echoing  spastic clicks from the window, setting the ambiance for the dinosaur’s controlled stroll. Sentient-B paused and stared at the screen, studied plump lips, glossed in pink, shimmering under a mix of camera flashes and the L.A. sun. She imitated the pucker, held the pose, turned her head and caught her reflection in the pulsating window glass, shrugged and continued with her adventure, sans her companion’s extinction.

Published by akcola

because the end is profitable

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