“God, they smell like death,” she said.

Scattered along the floor were a countless number of caterpillars. Some inched towards the walls, but most lay still in their obnoxious stench. 

“They are dead. Well, most of them,” I replied nasally. 

i could feel the stomach acid bubbling up like a volcano inside me when we pulled up. the engine rumbled along in unison for a minute, and then it died. we stepped out onto the wet grass. tonight, i’m a masochist. he flew into the beehive and i stood alone for a few minutes in the dark. 

a couple of years ago, i stood alone dangerously close to a beehive. though i did this quite often, it never seemed to fully satisfy my eccentric curiosity. they were complex and algebraic and i stood peacefully inside their humming repose.

as i stood in the dark, i could feel my face illuminated by the carnival’s nauseous lights. i could feel myself in third-person.

i’m sinking into the robotic sickness. 

NIGHTNIGHT by DEDDY