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The Bones in My Face

Vehicle's gone.

Maybe that's incorrect, or partially unright. I am pointing at the body with my magic baseball glove. The body is there, straddling the perforated yellow stripe of this unnamed highway. But it might as well be gone. Me and Leviticus can't go anywhere else, we're stuck out here watching the mutherfuckin antelope prance and dance. Lots of scrub brush.

My name is Viscous Stanley and I was tired. Took a nap at the wheel. Leviticus screamed, and I cuffed him in a dream with Mr. Magic Wilson. Travelers must sleep.

Hey you. Leviticus. Shut up. No hunting. Yet.

We can't go anywhere because of the wheels. I woke up and we were still. No wind whipping my golden locks. I stepped out of the vehicle and saw that the wheels had become teeth. Big, yellow, immobile teeth. This is Sir Crazy, right?

Leviticus says, "Have you ever turned around in the darkness, expecting to see your Father with a grin and an ax?"

Shut up, Leviticus. Polish Mr. Magic Wilson. Yes, thank you.

So teeth. I stepped out of the vehicle and the soles of my orange sneakers stuck to the road. Something smelled sweet. It was the road. It was a candy road. FUCK! The teeth were yellow and rotting.

Vehicle's got tooth decay and the cavities aren't going to allow me and Leviticus to go anywhere. The bones in my face are growing, because I am frustrated and angry.

Leviticus says, "I never turned around, so I am alive and I love Dad. But, now, Viscous Stanley, we're fucked. Even if I polish Mr. Magic Wilson, you're not going to be catching dreams anymore. Break your thumbs. This place is now our place. Somebody is brilliant upon the peaks of imaginary mountains in the distance we cannot see."

Dammit, Leviticus, cap your handicapped wisdom. Can't you see that the bones in my face are growing? Soon, I will be a stranger to myself. In the middle of a blighted highway with a vehicle gone, that's especially hard to deal with.

We wait for the wind to blow. After all, something new is soon forgotten.

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