I count the steps as I walk, the seconds as I do a task which is necessary but uninteresting. It relieves the tedium, but I forget the numbers when my counting stops. The pavements are hard and unforgiving, but each flagstone has its own character and its own personality. I waste time thus in dreary frenzy. I wash down the drugs with preparations hoping extend my life, bloated by my belly bare, hoping to count to the number that will do what I cannot.
Posted on July 26, 2014 by Robert Kyriakides