They called him Fuckface just for the hell of it, tried to get a couple fingers between his ribs or down that little hollow below his throat, above his breastbone.
They punched his guts, each blow driving nubs of spine into the brick wall behind him.
He stood there taking it, incredulous his so-called friends would trick him so.
Did he gain, just then, a glimpse down the hall of his later him – resented flesh stippled with pimples and moles, undulant weird folds encasing drives and their mechanism?
All of this did he come to know at the tender age of ten?
All of this as hard bones hammered harder him?
No comments:
Post a Comment