Tuesday, January 13, 2009

It was a deformity. Of sorts. A three chambered peanut. It was quite the thing to behold for the child. He had never been inside a chamber, much less seen one from the outside in.

No windows or doors or bars. Sloping walls and the smell of dirt and sweet. Nutty. He didn't like it when the other kids called him that. He was only one chamber afterall. Not two connected by cardboard nature. Certainly not three.

He shouldn't have been surprised when they finally cracked into him. They didn't use a nutcracker, wide, vertical grin and monosyllabic vocabulary. They just pounded, hammered, stamped on his body with steel-toed boots and cement blocks until he was practically a powder. Cardboard nature doesn't hold up well against anvils.

And they pounded him into a mush. He saw it all, too. From the outside in. They sprang loaves of bread from shallow pockets, spread his insides out with knives and eager eyes. He was just another part, four-chambered this time. They consumed every bit of him.

From the outside in.


Priscilla said...

poor peanut :(

rabidchipmnk said...

You can imagine how making peanut butter sandwiches is for me.