toxicdonuts

Once in awhile, everyone stays outside and can't get in. You wonder who kept the keys. In actual fact, you'er gripping it in your pocket, holding on so tightly till your knuckles turn white. You get down on your knees, you feel better when you're closer to the ground. You try to puke, but nothing comes out. You want to get rid of the disease. The parasite is eating you up from the inside. Slowly, steadily eating you up inside. You won't even notice, until it eats through to show on the outside of course. That's when you lock yourself up inside and hide the keys. Close your eyes, let the image burn into your retina, so that it'll never fade away.
Once in awhile, the old man comes back to talk. You have a conversation with him, followed by a chess game, maybe two. You sip your coffee (you've chosen your favourite mocha of course) and move the white queen down the checkered squares. You stare at him for a minute, and wonder what makes him return, and what makes you answer the prodigal's knocking, every frocking time. Your hospitality flatters him, he smiles at you and you smile back, not unwillingly. He tells you he wants your mirth. A small token he offers. He places two coins in your sweaty palm. You stare into the technicolour darkness beyond his shoulders, you hear the deafening silence, and you realise that you're staring at yourself. You take in a short breath to savour the peppermint tea in the china. You exhale, with a wheezing sound, and find yourself cornered by the white queen. You have no moves left. He takes your life and takes his leave.