I sat here by the crack for awhile in the corner of the ceiling after hiding from the rain before the light was lifted and I decided to move. I scrambled; I was forced, really, from living on the underside as a little guy, although big for my kind. The lights were a mystery. I panicked. I had to let all those I had wound up go. Pots and pans and plastic made the mystery full and scattered.
I put both blinkers on, hesitated, then hoped for the best, and barreled into the shit. I was one of the lucky ones, for a pause, until the violence fanned out. Then it was all over, pal.
The downside was, I wasn’t through with the corner.
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