The fridge is talking. Must be to me – I’m the only human left awake. Its intermittent gurgle is not stopped by sticking my elbows out or fixing it with a hard stare.
Neither can Google Translate decipher what it says. The lizards in our courtyard speak a common tongue but they’re all quiet now. Fully frozen silent.
Rain seeps through the walls, soaks that faux Persian rug. My assignment due tomorrow. This is so not fair.
A homeless ape without a name howls from the roof next door. Dressed in torn loincloth, he scorns the notion of drought.
Your red necktie chokes blood flow to the brain by 7.5 percent. I search for an empty pack of fags to show examiners what kind of torment I am going through.
viii. 2026
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