Entry #19

Deviation of Time and Space
by Adina Pelle


I should have killed you. I should have acted on my instinct before waking up.

You are the male half of an annoying couple…a couple I studied for an hour in the bar while you plumbed lower and lower depths of human degradation and stupidity.

For sport, you turned towards your better half with a sudden motion. Instantaneously, from hard-learned habit, her hands flew up to cover her face. She knew the next step of that brutal dance. You gently moved her trembling hands out of the way and your powerful fist stroke her face full of tears.

Sitting at my table, I thought for a while about just drinking the emotions of others—used to be a reliable and seductive way of entertaining myself. Now, I stare with a paralyzed soul at the sight before my eyes.

With lightning speed, my bare hands find their way to your neck and soon you are unconscious…a flabby punching bag for my fists.

I soon feel lighter than air as a peaceful wave of silence surrounds me.


I am cool.

The fist, a standard deviation of space.

My mind is filled with a dense fog of unresolved thoughts. I try to make sense of the world, but nothing comes through.

I decide to walk away.

My fist is bloody and I am flabbergasted. I feel my head weighing a ton. I try to fathom what really happened.


I should have killed you. I should have acted on my instinct before waking up.