Flash Post: The Living Routine

Written by Ashley Starling

When I arose this morning,
I could not see my face.
The mirror showed the tiled wall
but nothing in my place.
Squinted, stretched, squirmed;
Still an empty space.
I would have puzzled forever
but I had not the time to waste.

The subway line snails along
like blood oozing from a cut.
I swerved through strangers,
ran to catch the next one out but
as I hurriedly met the Main line,
the doors went barreling shut.
I could not stop, I passed on through
the doors but did not feel–“What!?”

The employees roamed the hallways:
my maggots squirmed into gear.
I barked to the new intern;
He pretended not to hear.
“The boss must be gone today!”–
then a lively round of cheers.
I yelled into his smirking face,
“But I’m standing right HERE!”

Back to my grave apartment,
I found the maid cleaning meek.
I watched her steal my antique watch,
slipped it into her purse so sleek.
“Put that back or I’ll fire you!”
But her eyes gave me no peek.
And when she passed into my room,
the walls echoed her loud shriek.

Curious to her big scare,
I passed right through the walls.
I saw myself lying down,
eyes glazed open like a doll.
As I looked upon my corpse,
and then realized, I was appalled:
Though I arose this morning,
I did not wake up at all.

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