The evening began in an oversized coffin of slat-wall and bleach. A box behind a box behind infinite lines. I wrinkled my nose at the smell of murdered time. I played shopkeep for the dancing masses. Carefully tracking every one of their spent minutes. I watched clueless children become bloated, disgusting men. I remained a vampire for a decade by drinking my own blood and bandaging my shortcomings with duct tape. In many ways, I'm the librarian I always wanted to be. For a clientele that has no sense of reverence or inner-sanctity. I place a coin under their tongues and send them off with silence. I lock the mortuary doors with a singular respect, and fall asleep as the sun rises.
8:01 p.m. - 2015-10-21
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