with the record on repeat, bread turns to dust in your mouth

[edriel]

So this is amnesia. He has been here before, unfortunately, this dusty verbiage, and the desert is like a silent movie with the background on repeat. Even the car is reluctant to make noise; it rattles on, engine silent as a vampire beneath the hood, the car dipping with the stubborn landscape and possibly a lack of wheel. He makes his mental circuits and skirts the gutters: Jack and a house he thought of as theirs, Susan and her intense retard smile, the constant jarring of this place, this now.

"Who am I?" The words can barely cross his lips. Perhaps it's his voice powering the car.