Pale

Eyes.

Eye.

I…

It’s so dark. I remember a time when darkness was fun and full of promises. Teeth liked it too, gnawing at unsuspecting flesh until it stopped moving.

Food with flesh is better than food without it. Anyone that thinks otherwise is a monster. Or worse, human.

Eyes tasted poorly. They were never good for anything but at least I’m not hungry now. Don’t like the dark anymore though. It feels cold, unnatural, and other things beyond what words can convey. Is this… fear?

I hear something. Left? Right? Above? Below? Can’t tell. Teeth aren’t good listeners, always getting in the way of one another. Teeth just want to do what teeth are for.

Cut, bite, crush, grind, shred, tear, clean, rip, chew, im… pale.

It’s pale, I can sense it now.

Pale feet on the craggy rocks.

Pale, slender hands holding sticks.

Pale screams of coordination, its echoes multiplying.

The food I thought gone for good has returned and brought company. Teeth won’t be able to hold them all off.

*This piece is a sequel to Eyes.