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A story of malicious midgets

who liked to eat papusas.

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Mental Midget for Hire
26 February 1978
A bleary eyed man looked at me. There wasn't much to see, my eyes glued with centuries of non-use. "Where am I?" was all I managed to squeeze out of my crusted lips. My drugged, swollen tongue nested in the vacuum of my mouth. "How long have I been here?? It was all I could do to move my lips, the very words brought blood from them. Glancing about the room, there was a white aura encapsulating all of the people.

Sometimes I wonder exactly what pain does for public health and safety. Perhaps everyone should get irradiated with microwaves.
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