Vincent Condella fought to draw ragged breaths into lungs that shuddered in spasmodic waves, each one triggered by the sobs that twisted his face and pushed steady rivulets of tears from the corners of his red-rimmed eyes. He tried to focus on the cool concrete that pressed against his cheek, but it could not drown-out the fear and anxiety that shredded his heart…that pained him through every limb and fiber of his being. He opened his soaked and swollen eyes to glare at the room through his rotated perspective — the ninety-degree shift laying the depressing-looking cots on the wall at the same time it plastered the ceiling with a multitude of crayon drawings; the brightly chaotic figures in their primary-hued glory only made his sobs start anew. Vincent hurt so bad he had to cry out from deep in his stomach, or the loss would kill him.
Continue reading ‘Memories in Crayola’
Sean walked into the exhibit holding a shank of meat. “Well that’s the last of the lion, what do you think we should eat next,” he looked over to see Shannon just getting up.
“How can you eat that knowing you killed a poor defenseless creature,” she replied groggily.
“Defenseless? You have got to be kidding me, or did you forget how that poor creature took off my ear before I took it down.”
“Well, if you had left it alone in the first place you would have been fine. Besides, I don’t understand why you can’t just eat the fruits and vegetables here, instead of killing these animals.”
“I’m doing them a favor, if I don’t kill them they are gonna to kill each other. Now that I think about it I am actually preventing their suffering. You should thank me.”
“Well maybe I should do the animals a favor and just kill you,” Shannon said with a sneer.
“Whoa calm down PETA, I was just kidding. I’m gonna go patrol the area looking for any stragglers, and for some lunch.”
“Fine, but when you get mauled don’t come crying to me.”
Continue reading ‘Exhibit Z’