That good feeling…
Walking threw a hallway I’ve seen a hundred times before I get a feeling. Dart into a room I’ve seen before, too. I don’t know how it got here, was it a product of a higher power, was it hell, heaven, just another shitty place? It smells bad, stale, and has a little bleach tang. It looks clean enough. “Why not?”
I look and see the pictures on the wall move. They look at me, stare, questioning eyes of amazement, I’m sure. I can’t particularly tell you why. What I can tell you is this feeling? Something inside of me, growing, creeping up, truth? I still don’t know why the eyes follow but they do.
I walk past the first door, locked. Look around, find another.
There are a few more to look in too. I step and my foot melts with the floor, gum. Picking the chewed piece off my shoe I fall and melt my face with the floor. A girl—beautiful, refreshed, the same look in the eyes though; walks past me, almost steps on me but she only gives me the time for a look as I sit tounge extended out almost massaging the floors touch, eyes water—I hit my nose [cough]—and I hear a quick nose exhale before she leaves with shoulder shrug . Spitting grit and sand out, picking my teeth clean, I pick myself up and walk into that room she just left—inside the room.
It’s walls are close, too close. They look to me like they are pulsing, moving in and out with the rhythm in my chest. Relaxing myself and thinking about the bottoms of people shoes I just tasted. My breath speeds up then stops as that feeling comes back, it is unmistakable. Compounding inside me I close my mouth and push past, the feeling exits me, and I flush.
Wash my hands, dry, and leave.