Tuesday, July 08, 2014

AssassiNation: Tales of Consumerism, Souls Ablaze

I awoke to the sound of the World grinding her teeth.  It was a low rumble: sand and rocks rubbing unevenly together against a smooth surface: the crunch of dry, old bones under the feet of some monstrous predator.  I was at the roof of the Earth, in a house that was and wasn't mine; I lived in a State of Flux, and every second threatened to crumble around me.

I was hungry.  But not for food. 

The rumbling was getting closer.  Soon I was enveloped in it.  Wrapped in it, like a deep-fried pogo at the state fair in the sweltering heat of July.  There was no cooling off.  Not at times like these.  Even my piss was like a stream of scalding hot magma, hissing as it hit the stagnant waters of the mine-but-not-mine toilet.  The air shimmered around me.  I couldn't swallow.  Couldn't think.

I was hungry.  This time, for food.

Captain Crunch.  That was all I could think.  I hated that shit, and I doubted we had any in the house, but I checked anyway as the sanity was slowly being ground to a fine powder in the red-hot cauldron of my skull.  What the fuck is this?  Who bought Captain Crunch on my watch?  Who brought it into my house, right under my nose?  Who would stock my cupboards with this junk?  The same people who would stalk the ferris wheel.