But I’m so tired of just thinking about it.  Perhaps I should destroy my own face, too.

I tied up this girl

Slutty little 19 year-old alcoholic philly

I picked up at a bar

I don’t know what she was doing there anyway

Someone must have brought her

Then dumped her

For being so obnoxiously drunk

She was barely aware of what was going on

When I took her with me

She liked my leather jacket

And my motorcycle

And my long hair

She tried to nibble on my ear

But was sloppy at it

She was horny

I know she expected to get fucked

But she passed out soon after I brought her to that

Abandoned house

I could have molested her

But I had no interest

There were still blinds on the windows in the back of the house

I ripped out the pull cords

And used them to tightly bind her hands and feet

The upstairs bedroom that had all of its carpet ripped out

Had a closet with the knob broken off

On the inside

She didn’t wake up when I put her in there

And shut the door

I got back on my bike

I wondered what would happen

Would desperation eventually give her the adrenaline to

Break out

Would someone miraculously come to that house and hear her upstairs

Kicking and screaming

Would she just die after a few weeks of

Crying and living in her own filth

I went to a motel

If I started early

And rode all of the next day

I could end my road trip early

I wanted to be home for dinner

With my wife and kids

        Lemmy has been a good sport about having to sleep in the smaller cage.  If he wasn’t always stealing food from poor, sick Dave I wouldn’t need to separate them.  I gave him a cardboard box which he loves hiding in.  Unfortunately I don’t have a water bottle for that cage so I have to put his water in a little dish, but he keeps tossing sawdust into it.  Silly darling.

        Since I never found my recipe for banana bread, the bananas have deteriorated so I unpeeled one and gave Dave a big, gooey piece.  I thought perhaps that in his sick condition he didn’t want to chew up the hard pellets.  Maybe he’ll eat something softer.  Hooray!  He ate it all.  I gave him some more and he started eating that too.  Maybe I can nurse him back to a decent state of health after all.

        At the age of 19, my shift at the movie theater was just about to end for the day.  Suddenly, the sight of a woman to my right made me cringe.  Otherwise she was actually quite a nice looking lady, but her left eye was dead and rolled off into the corner of her socket.  I wouldn’t have thought beforehand that a body part as small as the eyeball could be that conspicuous, but I could not help thinking about how vile it looked. 

        I think that that image is the closest thing I will ever see to an actual zombie.  It was a cold, grayed, mortuous eyeball stuffed inside the face of a living woman!  Without even having looked at her for a very long time, I remember vividly how I could see the unused veins of her eye just sitting there like the unused rooms in an abandoned house.  It also occured to me that if I had an eye like that I would probably cover it or have it replaced with a fake one. 

        Thinking on all this, I realized that if my thoughts were expressed out loud, they would sound very mean, but it wasn’t that I was trying to be mean-spirited.  It’s just that I was jarred by sight of her half corpselike face.  So upon reading the story the next time, I had much greater insight into how the narrator could be so demented by the frightening sight of his old neighbor’s eye that he’d be driven to kill him just to no longer see it.