Things have been getting stranger recently
Gunshots, sobbing, loud talk of ballrooms
Bruised hands gesturing so suspiciously
I think they may be taking strange mushrooms
They used to be quite friendly, in rude health
Loud, ostentatious, fond of big parties
Rather inclined to brag about their wealth
Eager to hide their insecurities
Now, guests that they once welcomed are cast out
Masked marauders lurk on their property
"Let me see your papers!" I've heard them shout
I've felt their paranoid eyes study me
I can't afford to move, but if I could
I'd get out of this crazy neighborhood
About the Creator
D. J. Reddall
I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.
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Off the Book
It ended like every other stupid idea. Badly, and alone. I’m researching digital confession ethics, he said. A tech ethicist. He gestured at floating data I couldn’t see then pulled out a physical notebook. Actual paper, fountain pen. He held it up like he was showing me scripture.
By Nicky Franklya day ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
It's so sad to always live in a state of fear 🥺🥺