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korse drabble: purgatory
Stasis. Too bland to be hell. It is Beckett's Lessness.
He never learned French.
Sans; without. He remembers that much.
He makes up his own words to fill his own Lessness. Or are they Beckett's words?
'Gray air timeless no sound' – but the hum of machines, noise so white it is almost clear.
His thoughts are sluggish, his memories hazy.
New thoughts are introduced. They are erasing his past and dictating his future.
They wake him. He doesn't recognize the man in the glass. They've shaved his head. His skin is gray.
They give him a gun.
He hunts.
He never learned French.
Sans; without. He remembers that much.
He makes up his own words to fill his own Lessness. Or are they Beckett's words?
'Gray air timeless no sound' – but the hum of machines, noise so white it is almost clear.
His thoughts are sluggish, his memories hazy.
New thoughts are introduced. They are erasing his past and dictating his future.
They wake him. He doesn't recognize the man in the glass. They've shaved his head. His skin is gray.
They give him a gun.
He hunts.
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