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Would You Like a Rust Sandwich?

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June 16th, 2006

ashes everywhere [Jun. 16th, 2006|12:14 pm]
Would You Like a Rust Sandwich?


[Current Location |through a dirty window]
[mood |never get it back]

Somewhere between throwing pencils at the ceiling, and burning the car magazine for no reason, it happened.  She felt it.

A shift, a ripple, a tear.

Were she more spiritually inclined she might think it had been a reassignment of the balance of power, or maybe even someone coming to rescue her.

As it is, the feeling is not a tangible one.  Is it in her head?  Or is it in her head?

Or maybe it wasn't a shift or a tear at all.  What does encroaching madness feel like?

After that, the world goes gray for a little while.   The ceiling is unblemished and whole.  'I want to go home,' is written in the dust on the coffee table.

The car magazine is winking at her.  Why is there are car magazine? 

Henry told her once there was a car on the ceiling.  The roof.

Wouldn't do.  To let Walter see it. 
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