Grotesque/Feed Me© By Sera

www.seratime.com ‘Pièce de Resistance’ When the fork eats the spoon and the knife stabs the face reflected in the plate, dinner is over. Brian Warner (Marilyn, Manson) Yon Cassius has a lean and hungry look. William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar Courage is resistance to fear; mastery of fear-not absence of fear. Mark Twain The minutes trickle. Sounds like laughter. I am surrounded by large insects. Screaming, gyrating, clicking cockroach-like monsters, gobbling everything in sight. All teeth and veins oozing a yellow slime. Chewing, grabbing, their exoskeletons gleaming. Wings twitching. Hundred of eyes watching staring. One enormous praying mantis beetle hybrid grins obscenely at me and asks for a cup of coffee. A cigarette. A potato chip. A cookie. A piece of, then all of me. Horribly, these things hide behind their thin, stretched, deformed human faces. Their masks are worn and have holes. I can see their sick wetness underneath. They sneer and grimace with chittery laughter, pincers waving. They want to eat shards of my soul, sliced thin and bleeding. They chip away until I think I can see through myself. I am still Alice, stuck in some nightmare version of the Rabbit’s hole. I look around and want to be Sera again. In the meantime I tiptoe, carefully avoiding antennae and the many legs quivering all around me. I can’t bear the crunch, the awful, grotesque crunching sound when I make a mistake and step on one of their mangled protruding limbs. Their too big heads whip around and see me. They scurry closer, closer. “We’re hungry, little Alice.” I hide in my own insect shell and I have nothing to feed the flock. Hell is other people John Paul Sartre’s play ‘No Exit’

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