interpretation unnecessary

by plermpt

I found a human brain in the snow by the gas station. It changed from kidney bean maroon to pinto bean pink when I took its photo. An embossed skull appeared on the photo of the brain. When I scrolled through the photos on my phone I found another image of a brown human brain in the snow, but I couldn’t remember taking that photo.

Fiona wasn’t interested in seeing “something gross” on my phone. Neil was interested in seeing “something gross” on my phone. Fiona hid her eyes behind her fingers and looked over my left shoulder as Neil hovered over my right. I scrolled through  hundreds of voyeuristic photos of pale, naked girls fucking in the pale, orange light of dingy motel rooms searching for the photo of the brown brain. Fiona wasn’t perturbed by the photos of her. I asked her if she liked pictures of asses.

A pale brown brain was sitting in a white dish at the center of the table during a family holiday meal, and I took a spoonful of it with my salad. I took a bite covered with shredded iceberg lettuce strips.

I spent some time “away from the mainland” with Jonas and Norm. Norm was Jonas’ friend and had a bushy red beard. They wanted to eat burritos with me. I was away from set all day and mined them for good excuses for my eventual return while we ate our burritos. There were some unsuspected fireworks on the dock and someone lost a hand. I knew that Jenny knew that I was missing from set, so at midnight I sneaked onto a raft headed towards the mainland while Jonas and Norm walked along the dock to get another burrito.

An official in a shimmering MTA vest carrying a flashlight followed me as I crept through the crowds on the pier, but I circled the pier and lost him in the darkness. I watched him solicit a tip from an exhausted and  grumpy father holding the hands of two young children from my raft.

I gazed at the glorious skyline of the mainland from my spot at the bow. City spires pierced the grey, midnight sunset. The tropical air was warm and sticky. Some rambunctious sluts were talking and dancing at the helm. Jenny was sitting immediately behind me and told the sluts that I could dance.

I sent Jenny a photo of a dump truck tire covered in snow. She texted me back, “I’m shitting.”

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