Tuesday, August 7, 2012

They-Who-Do-Not-Exist


Not much to say about this one...just an allegorical "unseen monster" sort of tale I suppose.

THEY-WHO-DO-NOT-EXIST

Reading, Pennsylvania and its inhabitants cannot be seen with the naked eye; they must face each harsh morning using only the sense of smell. Those with leather wallets and a bloodhound's nose are fortunate enough to pay the landlord most months. The town's sense of sound is also keen, but the screams that pervade the night are typically ignored, drowned out by the shared crunch of day-old bread, the pressure of liquor's languor.
Within the city limits lays an invisible beast that bellows: a roaring lion with claw and tooth ravaging the potential of youth, claiming more victims than can be counted by the Census Bureau. It never crosses the Penn Street Bridge for fear of being discovered. The monster punishes the locals for their poverty, dips into its own till, traps itself within.
A glass bottle transforms from comfort to weapon.
A gunshot echoes at 5th and Penn.
Again.

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