Friday, May 6, 2011

Potato Sack

Help

My words surround me as I'm surrounded by this bag.

Help

Fish? Ooh I can smell it now. My favorite dish from back home, fish pie. What would these humans be doing making such a delectable dish in this run down diner?
My eyes began to water and my tongue began to tingle as my lips formed drops of green acid.

I open my eyes again, and it's still dark. Not because the lights are out, but because of where I am.

Help.

Andre's old man stinch makes its way through the stitchery in my carrier. Maybe he can hear me.

Help Andre. Help

Shake. Thrown. Slammed onto the ground.

That's my cue to stop.

I hear the diner door bell ring as it opens or closes and the sound of the humans is muffled behind the glass rectangle.

Bouncing away.