Each of us sits, undisturbed within our chambers.

Waiting,

Praying for release,

Begging the hammer of bad luck to press down against our backs and set us free.

A Pull,

A Click

Strike!

Nothing.

Silence in its complete, nerve-destroying intensity. I revolve around, clockwise, waiting to fester in some foreign, grey matter, no longer filled like a sponge with intellect and life. I wait, to dig through layers and layers and lodge myself into and through the path of an ear canal. I make a clear pathway of destruction through years of cancer and tumors building up. In reality, I am putting my victim out of misery.

Enough guessing,

What am I.

I’m not Russian, but they call me a liar.

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