Callous
“Corrosion of feelings”, the accusation said. A seal, a signature. I was a bit confused, though, when the judge, a heavyset gentleman with a kind red face, rose from his seat and cuddled me.
- What's your last wish, son? - he asked me sweetly.
No wishes.
- Come on, - he insisted. - Ask the audience, fifty-fifty or call a friend?
The subconscious thirst for feeling things the way normal humans do tries to turn even nothingness into something resembling human, to give weight to weightlessness, to attach sense to nonsense, so it was not surprising that they caught me by surprise when I saw the prosecutor's face contort: he was crying. I can imagine how the executioner will be upset to align me a little – a local euphemism. Poor butcher!
you are so callous -
he'll tell me slightly later
feeling my thin neck
31.08.2019
Ten Word Challenge 1 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
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