(no subject)
this is me, posting in my livejournal.
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He had seen this kind of thing once before, on a weekend trip to some city he didn't remember, That Saturday morning, he had stopped into the Pancake Hut for some lousy service, and even shittier food.
Having waited for nearly 30 minutes, to be seated, the crack head busboy promptly sat an elderly couple that had just walked in the door. Although empty hunger pains were gnawing out the inside of his belly, he was kept from saying something when his eye caught on one of the more disturbing and fascinating things he had ever seen.
It was the elderly man's right arm.
It was bloated; nearly twice the size of the other. It had looked waterlooged, and seemed completely useless to its owner. It hung on his side like a leather water bag. As if he had not just stepped out of an aging blue oldsmobile, but rather from a long stint in the desert. And in some weird twist of fate, had used a human arm to carry his life giving water.
This had not been a makeshift water skin, however, it had been the mans arm. And the sight of it gave Antoni a shiver, and rang the bells in his hungover head.
Antoni's arm now looked like the old man's. It was huge and bloated, and heavy. Although there was a deep numbness all over, the pressure that the weight of the arm created on his leg, did not register as normal. Had his faculties been more with him, he probably would have thrown up.
Fortunataly, the greenish light from the moon, pouring through the storm grate, provided little in the way of illumination. He had been sparred a fully lit view.
His sense of alarm was distant, mixed with the immediate need to get moving. He could not budge his muscles at all, however. Everything was soft and foggy, and his vision seemed to have a delay. "What's happened to me?", he thought.
He reached back into himself, and drew a passage from some piece of SPAM email he had read last week. "Your muscles are your slaves. You command them. They do not command you."
At this point, however, he was a complete slave to his own muscles. The edges creeped in on him and finally took over.
> Oblivion is the small town outside the big city where Tony grew up.
:::::>
He had seen this kind of thing once before, on a weekend trip to some city he didn't remember, That Saturday morning, he had stopped into the Pancake Hut for some lousy service, and even shittier food.
Having waited for nearly 30 minutes, to be seated, the crack head busboy promptly sat an elderly couple that had just walked in the door. Although empty hunger pains were gnawing out the inside of his belly, he was kept from saying something when his eye caught on one of the more disturbing and fascinating things he had ever seen.
It was the elderly man's right arm.
It was bloated; nearly twice the size of the other. It had looked waterlooged, and seemed completely useless to its owner. It hung on his side like a leather water bag. As if he had not just stepped out of an aging blue oldsmobile, but rather from a long stint in the desert. And in some weird twist of fate, had used a human arm to carry his life giving water.
This had not been a makeshift water skin, however, it had been the mans arm. And the sight of it gave Antoni a shiver, and rang the bells in his hungover head.
Antoni's arm now looked like the old man's. It was huge and bloated, and heavy. Although there was a deep numbness all over, the pressure that the weight of the arm created on his leg, did not register as normal. Had his faculties been more with him, he probably would have thrown up.
Fortunataly, the greenish light from the moon, pouring through the storm grate, provided little in the way of illumination. He had been sparred a fully lit view.
His sense of alarm was distant, mixed with the immediate need to get moving. He could not budge his muscles at all, however. Everything was soft and foggy, and his vision seemed to have a delay. "What's happened to me?", he thought.
He reached back into himself, and drew a passage from some piece of SPAM email he had read last week. "Your muscles are your slaves. You command them. They do not command you."
At this point, however, he was a complete slave to his own muscles. The edges creeped in on him and finally took over.
> Oblivion is the small town outside the big city where Tony grew up.