I remember a place was crowded when the dance-floor was full. I remember hunger was when it was dinner-time and I hadn't eaten since lunch. I remember when pollution was a brown cloud coming out of a car, dispersing and disappearing soon after. I remember when a house was where a family lived, and appartment buildings had rooms. I remember when suicide was a drastic and tragic act, not an everyday occurance. I remember the
showed first 75 words of 763 total
showed last 75 words of 763 total
of the occasional fights and raids by other appartments. It's quite a surprise I've lasted so long, I reckon I've been here with them for at least two months. I can feel myself rotting inside, but every day he just pats me in the morning and pats me in the evening. He rarely even discusses me with his mother any more. It's like I'm just here for two pats a day. The future looks dreary.