Life on the run. The Maxis network leaking bars till zero on a phone. Sweaty palms that had once felt no juice leaking during a session of mittyesque felt anger like no other. Gripping the phone tightly on the right. Sandbag on the left. Face so close to the effort of god, like mad he ran. Blip blop, Blip Blop, BLop BLOp... the slippers continue to run down the alley. His heart out of his chest yet? No, he's brave and warrior like. Bangs and plops contrast each other as they ring broken fine china-ware, the brittle ceramic dropping mirrors the gas pipe that just popped open and ignited. Time is starting to slip, the running is starting to rip out of the present, automation is starting to kick in, hope is already lost.
The child goes out with a bang. No finale, one last joke for the comedian. It Drops dead on its knees with no history left, it's soul rising up out of his body with all memories. Only it's body is left, surely he's gone to a better place. Maybe he's gone to a place where I am right now. I am in a place where the observer observes only, and cannot touch those that do not perceive.
Jaime stood angry over the Malaysian boy who was once called a smart aleck. Some blood drooling down with spitfire red guts leaking out, intestines hanging out like those party banners the impoverished child probably wished for one day at his first birthday party. Non the less, the child died kneeling with two shattered knee caps that bent flat to the stiff unforgiving tarmac. All neo-noir to Jaime, it was all in black and white. No love, just a bunch of red and dead eyes looking back at him.
A gang of black shadows approach the Malaysian boy, two tommy guns, tow machetes, definitely not a royal flush, just a bunch of lowlives in suites. Probably the Yakuza's south east asian branch. They approach the boy, bag him up, ready for the feast.
The black shadows enter the halls of valhalla, drop the the boy off. With two tables separating the position in which the boy was at, he was left kneeling and dead. The vikings and all the foot soldiers didn't stop to turn for the boy. The boy wasn't there at all, it was as though he was in the position of life, yet dead in nature. He was there, but nobody reacted, it was the butterfly effect that everyone talked about that didn't really matter. Nothing mattered in valhalla, and so the boy wasn't noticed, there was no refuge.
"Good morning mum"- WAKE UP. OMG it's just a dream.... WAKE UP!!!! WAKE UPPP
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