TDV 113: Rumination Weapon

January 31st, 2018 by Sharkchild

The thumb was all I knew. It hovered before me in isolation—surrounded in a darkness that concealed the hand possessing it and the setting around it. Its yellow skin was old and wrinkled and its gray ridged nail grew in length perpetually with time, curling as it did.

My frame of vision was locked; I could not pivot or tilt. I was forced to watch the thumb and the thumb alone, and the only disparity of this strange existence was the length of the thumbnail—that was all that changed. My only memories were of the nail being shorter; and my only imaginings were of the nail being longer.

The source of my being was hidden from me; I could not see who I was or know from where my sight was enabled. I was a vessel of visual reception and nothing more. There were no constraints on my survival; there was nothing I required to endlessly be.


 

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