Very short story prompt (12)

A writing prompt and yes inspired with homage to the legendary writer William Burroughs.

Or at least an attempt…

“2:00am…Irish backpacker, female, next door arguing with partner.  Heated, loud, vocal Annoying.  Hope they kill each other.  But they won’t.  Sweating must finish writing.  They say it empties consciousness.  True.  It works.  Two weeks back someone slashed the tyres of a car in the street, left note it reads…’Don’t park on footpath.  Insensitive driver.‘  Social justice warriors, hate that term,  but for better or worst just a bunch misguided and underutilized a-holes.  Real world.  Brutal.  Shit!…The walls are sweating, or is that just me.  Blink, colors gone, looks like black and white in here.   Even though it’s just dark.  Keep typing, words spill out, check over spelling.  A little skewed.  Plunge into hell can happen in an instant.  Homeless man on streets.  And some cretin cries, blames world that they didn’t get laid that week .  Says gender norms are to blame.  Pen moved.  Telekinesis.  Wish I had a gun.  Would shoot holes in wall call it art.  Produce art.  Art?  What is it.  Expression.  Hustle.  Fast motion.  Time now 3:00am.  Arguing stopped.  Food processor on.  She or he now blending up the corpse.  Food?  That’s a lot of meat.  Walk to window, small crack the beginning of the end of the universe.  From there it expands. Then it will break down.  A continued process.  Found out about a particle, passes through the human body.  Has no mass, ghost particle they call it.  Think about that.  Passes through the shadows of a fraught  mind.  It’s a cruel joke from the cosmos.  Need a drink.  Alcohol.  Look at bottle.  Gin, three shots and an aspirin.”


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