outstretched arms, away from the rusty back part/ broken part (neither of us were updated on our tetanus shots).
Three flights up, he leaned over the railing and checked below.
With both hands—overhead, soccer style—he threw the microwave off the deck and into the alley.
The microwave hit the ground a few feet from me and compressed a little, sending out small pieces.
It was great!
Always felt like, if I could pause time, I’d just go around and break everything then un-pause time, leaving people unharmed but everything else broken, even clouds, mountains, and the sun, maybe a fish or two as well.
*
My brother and I ran home.
We slowed down by the entrance to our building and stood there.
I said, “Why did we run. We could’ve walked.”
“You started and I followed,” my brother said. Then he said, “I feel like I’m faster than you, but that you could run for a longer time than me.”
I said, “Yeah, definitely.”
And I remembered the gum I had in my mouth.
Worried I’d inhale it while catching my breath.
What would that do to me: a piece of gum, stuck in one (both?) of my lungs.
I saw myself decaying in the corner of a room empty but for a toilet—wheezing in the corner, purple-skinned and seconds from death.
My brother gave me the gum a couple days ago and I saved it.
It was pink and had been in a dresser drawer for a long time.
When I ate it today after my sandwich, the gum crumbled into dust at first.
It was extremely hard to keep the pieces together in my mouth but once they all combined it was nice, and then, hey, I was chewing gum.
Regaining my breath out front, I spit the gum against the wall of the apartment building.
The gum bounced off instead of sticking, which is what I imagined it would do, stick.
Why didn’t it stick.
Definitely thought it would stick.
This means something—I thought.
Followed my brother into the apartment building.
I thought about inventing a word for when your smile becomes a laugh.
The breaking point between the two.
This is the breaking point—I thought.
And I had a strong urge to tell my brother I loved him because I’d never done that and he’d never done that and he was the only person I talked to so it seemed important.
*
My brother showered and went to see his girlfriend.
I lay on the tile floor, playing with Rontel.
Dripping sweat.
I thought about how tomorrow, I’d completely change my life.
Tomorrow I’d do something new.
Something as yet undone.
Yes.
Tomorrow will be the start.
I’ll do something I’ve never done.
I’ll go to the store and purchase a new videogame.
The videogame will be a new release.
I’ll say, “Which is the newest, best game” to an employee, then buy whatever suggested.
I’ll take the videogame home, reading the instruction manual as I walk, because the anticipation to play the game will be so intense that I’ll need to read the manual before I even play.
At home, I’ll play the videogame to its conclusion, completing what the game asks of me.
Play the game until I win.
I’ll fucking win.
And the winning won’t be hard, because the game will have been designed for someone to win with very little trouble.
And early evening will pass into the next day, sun rising on me through the (blinds closed, DUH) windows.
And I’ll turn the videogame off.
Stand, stretch, walk to the window, open two blinds with my first and middle finger, and look outside.
No focus, just looking.
Forever, as a feeling that takes place inside of time.
What next—I’ll think, staring outside.
What next, Chicago.
How do you want me to fuck you, Chicago.
Then I’ll go to bed, to another terrifying dream of being on the deck of a ship during a violent storm.
Same fucking shit.
Sweating on the floor this afternoon, I decided to take a shower to stop sweating on the floor this afternoon.
*
After the shower, I noticed my only towel wasn’t clean.
It smelled really bad and had crumbs all over it and I
Three flights up, he leaned over the railing and checked below.
With both hands—overhead, soccer style—he threw the microwave off the deck and into the alley.
The microwave hit the ground a few feet from me and compressed a little, sending out small pieces.
It was great!
Always felt like, if I could pause time, I’d just go around and break everything then un-pause time, leaving people unharmed but everything else broken, even clouds, mountains, and the sun, maybe a fish or two as well.
*
My brother and I ran home.
We slowed down by the entrance to our building and stood there.
I said, “Why did we run. We could’ve walked.”
“You started and I followed,” my brother said. Then he said, “I feel like I’m faster than you, but that you could run for a longer time than me.”
I said, “Yeah, definitely.”
And I remembered the gum I had in my mouth.
Worried I’d inhale it while catching my breath.
What would that do to me: a piece of gum, stuck in one (both?) of my lungs.
I saw myself decaying in the corner of a room empty but for a toilet—wheezing in the corner, purple-skinned and seconds from death.
My brother gave me the gum a couple days ago and I saved it.
It was pink and had been in a dresser drawer for a long time.
When I ate it today after my sandwich, the gum crumbled into dust at first.
It was extremely hard to keep the pieces together in my mouth but once they all combined it was nice, and then, hey, I was chewing gum.
Regaining my breath out front, I spit the gum against the wall of the apartment building.
The gum bounced off instead of sticking, which is what I imagined it would do, stick.
Why didn’t it stick.
Definitely thought it would stick.
This means something—I thought.
Followed my brother into the apartment building.
I thought about inventing a word for when your smile becomes a laugh.
The breaking point between the two.
This is the breaking point—I thought.
And I had a strong urge to tell my brother I loved him because I’d never done that and he’d never done that and he was the only person I talked to so it seemed important.
*
My brother showered and went to see his girlfriend.
I lay on the tile floor, playing with Rontel.
Dripping sweat.
I thought about how tomorrow, I’d completely change my life.
Tomorrow I’d do something new.
Something as yet undone.
Yes.
Tomorrow will be the start.
I’ll do something I’ve never done.
I’ll go to the store and purchase a new videogame.
The videogame will be a new release.
I’ll say, “Which is the newest, best game” to an employee, then buy whatever suggested.
I’ll take the videogame home, reading the instruction manual as I walk, because the anticipation to play the game will be so intense that I’ll need to read the manual before I even play.
At home, I’ll play the videogame to its conclusion, completing what the game asks of me.
Play the game until I win.
I’ll fucking win.
And the winning won’t be hard, because the game will have been designed for someone to win with very little trouble.
And early evening will pass into the next day, sun rising on me through the (blinds closed, DUH) windows.
And I’ll turn the videogame off.
Stand, stretch, walk to the window, open two blinds with my first and middle finger, and look outside.
No focus, just looking.
Forever, as a feeling that takes place inside of time.
What next—I’ll think, staring outside.
What next, Chicago.
How do you want me to fuck you, Chicago.
Then I’ll go to bed, to another terrifying dream of being on the deck of a ship during a violent storm.
Same fucking shit.
Sweating on the floor this afternoon, I decided to take a shower to stop sweating on the floor this afternoon.
*
After the shower, I noticed my only towel wasn’t clean.
It smelled really bad and had crumbs all over it and I
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