moth, played over and over again, the bulb dimly lit the room in my class.
His buzz is mixed with his restless shadow in a swinging light and darkness, which is projected onto the walls.
Light.
Darkness.
Anxiety.
Desire.
casings roar.
watch my fingers. Are becoming increasingly blue. When I lost my humanity? Where is my body and soul?
Mind Blank.
I look at the table.
the knife and fork and tried to cut the meat that I have before.
pulse trembles. Back moth. I try to forget. It is only a ghost. There. There are no shadows. Only light.
knife steel grates on the plate. I take a big chunk in their mouths. I have dry mouth. I come nauseous at the thought of eating something cooked.
I spit. I can not swallow.
back again. I see your shadow on the walls blurred. I have hunger, not take it anymore. A painful spasm me running from the stomach into the throat. I have not left for days to hunt.
'm screwed. This time I'll die of starvation.
A shadow moves in the back of the room and coming towards me.
Is she? Or a ghost?
No, it Jhonsie, my Siamese cat.
Jump to the table and walks curiously at my plate. Meat smells and looks up. He stares with her big blue eyes full of curiosity. I meows. He also hungry.
hit me back moth consciousness.
The projected shadow erase the little kindness I had.
I look at my cat. They're licking their lips.
selected Story: An Anthology of fiction in Athnecdotario IncoherenteVol 1
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