Moving on.
Can't.
Go for broke went for help started out with a diaper and won't even make it to the last in a line of incontinent products keep thinking these hands will go from covering a face to scraping across the ground won't even make it to a grave where are the cemeteries obscured by dust storms these hands are rubbing eyes closed to the world trapped in its own dirt go for broke went for help is that where this went to into a hallway and came upon a door after a brief hallway of preparation nodded to the wall the shadow on the wall making a shadow on the wall making that the wall and entering into it go for broke.
"Don't get up."
"What am I supposed to do when I didn't hear you until you were already in here?"
"Maybe I should go back out."
"You're in aren't you?"
"I'm not sure. I forgot to knock."
"You sure forgot to knock all right."
"I forget to do things when I'm not sure especially knocking on doors."
"Forgetting to knock on doors is at the top of your dung heap when you are an uncertain little twerp?"
"I'm 5 foot 9."
"So?"
"I'm not little. I'm not tall, but I'm not little. Little would be 3 feet or less."
"I thought you said you were 5 foot 10?"
"Maybe I should go back out."
"You're in aren't you?"
"You obviously wanted someone taller."
"Why would I? I want someone whose neck comes right up to my hands when I hold them here so I can strangle them when I have to."
"Have to? I think I should go back out and maybe it would be better if I forgot to even come back."
"I said if I have to. I didn't say I would strangle you right now."
"That's not very comforting."
"What have we said about bringing comfort into this?"
"We did go over that didn't we? It's flooding now in this part of my head or wait it's flooding in this part of my head."
"It doesn't occur in that part either."
"And I thought I could have at least trusted my initial selection."
"Your neck does come up to my hands when I hold them up here like this doesn't it?"
"How about if I don't go back out and let you strangle me? I mean it might actually be the last and only time I ever feel your touch and such a firm one at that and I could get you to be sure about something and look me in the eyes and watch me empty not that I don't feel empty as it is but you would get a load of the dull edges of the last few cards I've been dealt."
"I thought I told you I'm not up to that yet?"
"You could rehearse it."
"That's what this whole thing already is."
"I've never felt ready for all the things that have been already. And why are you talking like that?"
"Because you say ridiculous stuff like what you just said."
"No I mean the accent you're using."
"Accent?"
"Not accent. I mean the inflection."
"Inflection? You mean it doesn't match what you're imagining how it should go in your head in the section of your brain where it doesn't even occur? Now I know your answer to the question has it ever occurred to you? would be no it's never occurred to you."
"Not inflection. I mean infection. You sound like you're congested. And no it's never occurred to me. I thought I answered that earlier a few moments back."
"A few moments back?"
"A few maybe more. I might have just implied it. Are you up to strangling me yet?"
"No."
"Would now be a good time to say something?"
"Say something about what?"
"About the real reason I want you to strangle me."
"I don't really give a rat's ass and no one else does either."
"No one else? Why do you say that?"
"Because there's no one else."
"I've always wanted to know what your hands smell like. I've wanted to know if they would smell like hands that come down to wipe up one of my spills and for a little bit there's that smell of hesitation a fellow clumsiness that whispers with its scent that this accident doesn't have to have a place anywhere to make it all crank up into motion again."
"I found a few pages in the corner earlier today. As I was reading them trying to make sense of what they might have fallen out of and it was something about the daughter of this man who was selected to be the head of what he didn't even have any experience in and I don't think it had anything to do with the daughter it had nothing to do with the child and then I noticed on one of the pages there was a brown smudge mark from one of my fingers and I sniffed at it and it reminded me that I had been scratching scratching around for something."
"Maybe I should go back out."
"What about me strangling you?"
"Are you up for it yet?"
"No. I wanted to know why you changed your mind and went back to that?"
"I thought you could come out with me and see where I've been scratching around."
"Why don't you just come back in again?"
Go for broke went for help started out with a diaper and won't even make it to the last in a line of incontinent products keep thinking these hands will go from covering a face to scraping across the ground won't even make it to a grave where are the cemeteries obscured by dust storms these hands are rubbing eyes closed to the world trapped in its own dirt go for broke went for help is that where this went to into a hallway and came upon a door after a brief hallway of preparation nodded to the wall the shadow on the wall making a shadow on the wall making that the wall and entering into it go for broke.
- Max Stoltenberg
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