What to eat

I am in a diner. Doors are located 15 feet and 10 feet from my location. These doors are exits. My body is slightly weighted, carrying a burden I had not for a long time. Why? Danger is the last thing on my mind. The waiter comes to me but I notice a man on the streets. He stumbles onward into the building. Without noticing the strange man, the waiter recalls my attention to my order. I want a burger, some fries, some onion rings, some water. Caloric intake unknown. This might be my last meal. The waiter recalls with a smile and strides toward the strange man muttering to himself the entire time. The smell of cigarettes and liquor entered my senses, this man had a troubled past. Either that or he was an alcoholic smoker. The prior could be problematic; there are many strange people.

What should I do

I look outside. I can see everything. Everywhere. Everyplace. Maybe that's why I picked this place. Maybe it wasn't because this room described how many rooms were in the building. I can see something happening. I can see a woman move look down and away from some other people. They are carrying a black box. Everyone uses this box. Should I stop them? I look out again. There is nothing to do around here. My legs push me forward.

Who am I

What happened? The ground feels cold but gravity keeps me here. I remember a knife. I threw that knife. Here, at the target. As I rise, I see an object lying on the counter. In my hands, it is a v-shaped piece of wood with another piece coming down from the vertex. There is an elastic material reaching across the v. It is a slingshot. The knives I threw were still in the target. At least one of them was. The others were in each other. There is a roar. I can see flames. The food trailer is on fire. The closer I get to it, the more familiar it seems. But there is a man grinning as he passed the fire. It almost made him seem responsible. "There's something wrong. We can't stop it." The speaker is in a chair wheel a steering wheel with 146 buttons. There is a force pulling us down and I know this isn't good.

Circus

It's not a circus, it's a carnival. There are 34 stands here. Each step in the blinding sun makes me nauseous. I don't know where I am but there is a dog. He's just walking around a restuarant. EPIPHANY! The Vietnamese restuarant. That is where I am. What am I doing here? I need to go to that circus. No, the carnival. What's wrong with me today? Stumbling on the street, I among my way to the circus. In my dazed state, I walked and was approached by unintelligible carnis saying something about something that I needed to pay to do something. The rides all looked run down. There are spastic bumper cars, not like they all cease functioning, but rather they randomly stop individually. The Ferris wheel is just as spontaneous, losing mobility before every full rotation.

Left, right, forwards, right, left, forwards, right, back. Once again I'm lost but I have reason to be; I don't yet understand the frame of this circus. Seeing my confusion, a carni walks up to me again. He tugs at my sleeves with pleading eyes. As I'm positioned into stand, I see the target. It looks to be 15ft away. That can't be right because the booth extends further. Now I see. There are mirrors, which serve to shorten the actual distance. I'd judge it to be 30ft. The mirrors must be covered in plexiglass, they'd break so easily otherwise. The whole design is just a ploy to scam some money.

As I am just thinking, the carni just takes the 3 dollars in my hand and hands me three knives in return. What's wrong with the knives? Nothing. There's just a faint memory lingering on them, a feeling of uneasiness. Why can't I remember? I want so hard to remember. There is only one thing to do. I take three quick throws.

"Good job Hiroshi, excellent shot as ever," says the man on my left. "It's whatever," I reply. "We need to send you out sometime, a job might help hone your skills," says the man on my right. "Sure," I say. "I heard about this place called Watershed Heights," says the man on my left.

Everything goes black.

What Wonders

Dark. I can't see. Why can't I see? This world is simply nothing...What's this? The light, it burns. Reality hurts, so I shift in my bed to compensate. Yet, inevitably, I walk over to the counter for some cereal. Outside looks odd, murky, gloomy, actually it looks terrible. Sigh, I have to go out again, they want me to for what good is doing anything without a purpose?

I've noticed someone strange, however, I do not consider him a threat in anyway. He is just kinda strange, that magician guy. Its been a long time since I've heard the word magic. Well, it doesn't exist. Don't people recognize that cold, hard logic is a real description of how things work. As I study his behavior, I'm not quite sure he doesn't notice me. If he doesn't, someone is. I need to hide again. No time, I have to move. Stop thinking, react. Why can't I stop thinking? Up ten steps, down 5 steps, up 12 steps, down 6 steps, up 9 steps, and down 5 steps. Nothing really matters. I'll take a walk.

More Staring

Staring. Listening. Watching. My attire suits my surroundings; I blend in with the dark, gloomy neighborhood. Loud booming from afar warns of the coming rain. Should I go back for a raincoat? No, wandering requires nought. There is a man, however, that catches my attention. He runs as if he is an immovable force. Yet as he is running up Calloway, a bus turns onto Calloway. The implications of this action is that the man really isn't a movable force. Strange to think that life is so esily taken. As the man just lies on the ground, an ambulance comes asking for witnesses. Witnesses are only good if they are found. The cemetary is a good place to go. It has been a long time since I checked up on the number of graves. 52 days and 6 hours I believe. No, that is wrong. I was never good with time. Quiet seems inescapable here. I notice rows of graves. Other than the new ones, one thing stands out; a man is on a stone. Is he a new number? Observing him up close reveals a terrible odor. Yep, dead. Another one bites the dust.

Dinner

Milk and a peanut butter sandwich are a filling dinner. The sandwich constitutes for 400 calories, give or take, and the milk was a good 120. One man can always find things to keep himself busy in a town like this. Somehow, I can hear this drone in my room. It isn't me. I'm not crazy, I can tell if I'm crazy. It must be something else. The sound is much louder out of my room. It seems to be coming from outside. I go outside to discover the source. It is only another resident of the apartment. She seems very odd with her bronze device and the sound it makes is interesting to say the least. I can feel my body vibrate with the sound it makes. Odd. Such a sound would have to have a force, much like high pitch noises being able to break glass. Though the chances of her device causing this reaction seems to be slim because of the variation of the type of sound. I walk down Calloway to get away from the strange thought of sound. I see an apple tree in the park. Apples are good. They are 58 calories each.