‘Sorry, What?: A Cut-Up Experiment’ by Ahmed Nader Gretly

Her parents had lived smooth, well-ordered lives. Thinking was her thing; she was always wandering the sidewalks of life, never dreaming of raggedy made up stories, coming up with solutions for different hells, the senseless emptiness that passed away a few years back. She remembered how it was the only place she felt secure, at home, through perfectionism and being the best, for that, she was embarrassed. Mary should’ve listened to her mother, she made her feel comfortable enough to dance, comfortable enough with her own body, she realized these where all snapshots of him walking on the wall like a bug would, fucking himself in the ass, slobbering and spewing on all the spectators, who were watching wide-eyed with rock hard erections. Locked away in her own mind, figuring things out, making children who would someday, with wonder, get up in the morning and walk as Steve Miller walked into his studio apartment one night, and like an addict, spent eight hours staring at the wall. Brain was a territory, taking off its cloths, and crying, with lots of patience and acceptance. It was not beautiful how young she was to be consumed by a pitch black veil of billions of humans living in this world on anti-depressants, finally confessing how much they love one another, and for a moment, for one single moment; she opened the bottle and gulped twelve pills of shimmering diamonds soundlessly through this thing called life. Shadows roaming as she masturbated cupping a handful of sand, naked in front of the mirror in her broke down bathroom, as she twisted and turned, too much grains slipping between her boney claws, cursing herself. She was advised to take only one thanks to various psychology theories of the earth, and what we know about humans and stars and nights and lives and skys and troubles fighting for grounds of peace, scrawny bodies wrapped in each other ejaculating dreams of theological wonderment.

Advertisements

About Ahmed Gretly

Ahmed Nader Gretly. Construction/Site Engineer, fiction writer, poet, psychopath, researcher, a book addict, and a daydreamer from Cairo, Egypt. Currently doing Construction Project Management, MSc, at Heriot-Watt University, Edinburgh.
This entry was posted in Chronicles Of A Twisted Mind, Prose and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s