Abortion Arcade

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There is a light that never goes out. This light hangs in the wedding tower. Tomorrow, I will sleep there for the first and final time. Tomorrow, I am getting married.

I’ll make love for the first time.

The morning after, the dead people will come. They’ll cut off my head and steal my brain.

My wife, hopefully Pym, will become pregnant and give birth to a child who will never know its father, as I never knew mine.

To the dead people, male humans are only good for one child, then they are slaughtered and de-brained.

Naked, I crawl out of the dirt hole I sleep in. The hot fog eats at my flesh.

I’m damn hungry but take my time walking to the feeding troughs. Wedding season never brings anything good to eat for breakfast, only leftovers from the previous night’s celebration.

In the distance, a tumbleweed blows against the gargantuan brick wall that closes in around us like a fist squeezing an eyeball.

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