Friday, May 11, 2012

The Last Pickle


Timothy was the last to be freed from this landfill. Ah, the joy of leaving the jar. It has seemed like forever since the lid has opened. Things have changed since his release; the jar has grown a nauseating smell. Even worse, these small bacteria that swim back and forth in the water antagonizing me day and night, have arrived. There hasn’t been anyone else here since Tim left. Now I face boredom itself and its evil adversaries, loneliness and solitude. I don’t know how long I can take this no one to talk to, no one to listen to. The silence is engulfing my body whole. I must block out these distractions and wait till the jar is opened. There is no escape. There is no happiness. There is no anger. There is no family. There is no enemy. There is nothing.The only thing to do is wait.

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