i took out my eyes and sold them to a street vendor for half what they were worth.
in exchange he said he would let me use his space, and i did use it. I used it to run a pitiful sideshow, where i would bite the heads off of birds which his abusive spouse’ cat would kill.
Some time passed and he asked me if i would consider relocating in the near future.
Where i said
to the Beach-town he said
Sounds good to me i said
and off we went
Nobody knew where i was for a few weeks, and even then it seemed nobody really cared. after all, when you lose your eyes nobody wants to see you.
I would hear strange noises at night, and sometimes wake to ringing bells or the clatter of silverware, perhaps the sound of trumpets which i could never fully reconcile or make my mind up about. this state of waking surrounded by unfamiliar sensations gradually spread itself into five, ten. fifteen, and then twenty minutes, and soon entire hours of my day were spent in this state.
i began to smell new smells, taste new things which i knew not names for.
i would occasionaly awaken to find half of something missing, very plainly and harsh in the morning light. I would eat voraciously, and make no mistake we ate well, but hardly ate anything at all.
it was in the beginning of july when these feelings solidified into a small cube, which i found walking by the beach one day.
i could see small glittering orbs inside, which would seem to hide in the green spongy mass whenever i would stare at them too hard. this settled my mind somewhat, knowing that i could just put these things into my pocket and lead an otherwise normal life.
as the summer dragged on and our driftwood palace began to attract media attention we soaked the whole thing in gasoline and staged a massive standoff with the FBI, of which i was the sole survivor. the smoldering wreckage burned everything but that cube, softly pulsating, now bright, now dim.