Wednesday, 10 December 2014

The Edge of a Well-Trimmed Hedge

She played cups whilst I had a sudden onset of unpredictable diarrhea.

Her fingers twirled and teetered against each glass lip, squeaking and screeching away, whilst in the toilet my bowels were turning themselves inside out.

If I could sit here and think a moment, then perhaps I'd come to the realization that I was doing everything wrong.

If I had a moment to myself without all this screeching and diarrhea, then perhaps I'd have time to kill myself.

Instead I'm sitting here googling Irritable Bowel Syndrome, Living Life Without a Gallbladder, and The Top Ten Reasons Why Brad Dumped Jennifer.

What will I do if I lose all mobility? Will I drown in my own diarrhea?

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