Blotter

Following is one long run-on sentence, beginning with the words "tip toe to my room" and spilling out, subconsciously, one word at a time without pause…

Tip toe to my room, for thine is the kingdom the power and the glory. Forlorn, lost, forsaken, and misbegotten! Fear not, my weary companion, for the end is near. Do not close your eyes in terror, for shelter is lost regardless, and there’s no sense in hiding from that which is inescapable. Are you beautiful enough to merit the ten finger discount? Or shall we usher you off into the wells of the disgruntled, and otherwise satisfied clientel? Where I’m lingering at present, I shant be able to say, but should the time come for anything other than the ordinary, I feel as though the weight of weights shall be lifted, and like a fly under a shoe, I shall be lifted as well. Dwell not, sir, in these considerations for the evening has yet to melt into another gruesome day. Step left or step right, it matters not, for the direction you seek is too painfully difficult to travel, despite the promise of it’s unparalleled rewards. Slower, now, less the dance and more the exercise. Take your time, this time, and don’t let another false prophet tear you from the salvation of simplicity. I offer you this trey of plastic flowers, and this glittering moonrise that I’ve called my own for some time now. The light in this land is always silver, for me, silver or poiseonous yellow, and the only control I have over it is when I tell it to disobey me. Lost is inspiration, lost is the horizon, lost is my shadow behind my hunched and crippled frame. Lost is the promise, and lost is anticipation, and lost is the echo of hope among this bland and listless landscape. Fifteen soldiers march along the trail, five of them are tired, five are hungry, and five will be dead by nightfall.