The Traveller

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
DEMENTIA.

Submitted: March 09, 2019

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Submitted: March 09, 2019

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The Traveller

 

  I have no passport for my destination, no letter

of introduction, no visa, no letter of referral,

no currency, only cobwebs wrapped around my face...

  The old spider wants to see me again. I have no

coins, no tongue to lick the old spider's loins again.

Her womb filled with radio-active spider eggs....

  I walk through a room filled with broken rat's bones

and watch the pallor faces of the nursing home...

  I have no airport, no port to disembark from...

  There's redback spiders breeding around the lining 

of the above ground swimming pool....

  My destination is unclear, somewhere between 

a lighthouse and a ferris wheel. the old spider screams 

her skull insane...

  The old spider kneels in front of me and sucks the 

moon from the night. It's quite a sight for sore eyes, 

see her sucking at her age. She looks like she's got 

an over ripe banana in her mouth. She takes it out

and screams, " It's 'cause I'm not an R C, that's why

they treat me so bad! They're all R C in here, they

worship the devil Pope! "


© Copyright 2019 tom mcmullen. All rights reserved.

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