Convulsion taking its toll
He closed his eyes
Urging for a rope
Around his throat
Tears spurting down his face
He demanded the purpose of his life.
Fastening his arm
A voice undertoned,
You were born to be here today
Your fate shall now be revealed
Constructed for this machine
You shall replace part number 6533
For it is time worn now.
You shall no longer demand
Cause I know all that you need
A fabrication for your meddlesomeness.
He weighs his thumbs against a switch
Eyelids quiver and lips are twitched
Tears evaporate towards the ceiling.
The voice whispers now you’re ready
And pulls a gear with same cold demeanor
that drills a 9mm hole in his heart
Another gear to unstrap him
And yet another to lift him up
The 9mm shaft fits perfectly
The voice whispers,
Part number 6533 won’t be a problem for a few more years.
A version of this article appears on our Medium Page.
First Published on Jan 21, 2017.