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well it stings a little | by flush gorden
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well it stings a little

Day Sixteen:

 

I'm not really sure what happened. There I was thinking what a pleasant evening to start planning my future and the possibilities that it may bring and the slash, slash, claw, bite, chew, and here I am. Somewhere. I don't know where it is. It's awfully dark in here....in here...in here...here...here. Oooh, it's echoy too. Hold on...I'm going to see if I can make an earthshattering bodily function. The sort that rumbles the belly and...and...

 

Where is my belly?

 

I'm seeing where it should be and I'm seeing what looks like a string of sausage....oh that's my intestine. And it's just hinging there. Where's the rest of it? I'm practically empty. Maybe if I follow the trail but should I...I mean...can I just stuff it back in? Is it like when you take a thing out of a box and then you can never get it back in perfectly and shut it again? I'm just going to wrap it around myself till I get to the end of it.

 

This stuff is long. A little too long. Is it caught on something? Have I stretched it out a bit too far? Is that...I think I can see it...yes, it's caught on that giant sharp claw. Of that sleeping beastie. The one that seems to find me delicious. I don't remember them being that big...the beastie that is. Why is that hellish hound so big and why is it smouldering and smelling of sulphur?

 

Oh hell.

 

Bloody pyramid scheme.

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Taken on October 16, 2021