And I behold the bodies lining my path.
Screams are screams no more. Arms and legs and necks have turned into twisting shapes. Those who are able, with eyes left to gaze, force them upwards. In pitch black pupils, I see myself where I belong.
I sit upon my throne.
2 Comments
Astronut@lemmy.zip · 2 pts · 48d
Game of Cats!
bellly@sopuli.xyz · 1 pts · 48d
When you play the Game of Cats, you purr or you throw up on the carpet. There is no middle ground.