Tuesday, April 16, 2013


i don't know what he used to record it. it sounded like an audio cassette found under a railway. but it was over and over. i didn't hear the voice anymore. just the hiss and the scratch. and his chest and his lungs. and no words but vibrations of the insides of his throat. endless over and over for 13 seconds at a time. an audio clip. saved. set to repeat. again and again. his computer locked. his bedroom door locked. password and deadbolt. and the audio on loop. and his heart fueling his lungs with blood to press the wind outside his lips. telling the same story forever. and we bashed the door in just outside of an hour. and we fought the password until we lost the will and unplugged the machine. it had been playing for probably days. and we left the room, splinters accenting the carpet. left the apartment. they'd found his body in Arlington.

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