I can’t move Bill!
It’s 11:28 now, and last Friday, when I was discharged, I began having trouble with the management. Oh you know, they never liked me, always had me on the waiting list for a bed. Yes, a bed! Didn’t you know I didn’t have one? Well you sent me that one, you musta known. And no, I didn’t take it, it was filthy. I was surprised you even offered me something so disgusting. Pee stains, cat hair – did you even clean it before you gave it to me? Well, Ruth Dee, remember her? She took me shopping and I bought a BRAND NEW ONE. Whatta you think of that.
But you’re tops Bill, always was.
But the rats. You know, you heard ’em before. Squeaking and slitherin’, stealing food right out the mouths of kids! One bit me as I was walking down the stairs. You know me, I tried to get away but it was like a snail getting outta the way of a train. I’m fed up, Bill. The management won’t do nothing about it. So I packed a light bundle and I moved out, to the Aloha Inn down the street. Nice enough place, no rats at least. Working girls everywhere. Drunks. Management here won’t bother you. I used all my money to get a room for as long as possible.
Tonight, after I got some ice and came back to the room, I had a strange thought: what if the ceiling should cave in on me? Would I hear a noise before hand? Would plaster fall, like a warning, dust from the ceiling? A crack, would I hear a crack? These ideas, they started coming at me, fast and furious, bambambam!
So I got close down to the floor, tried to keep my face-skin from touching the carpet, and I looked under the bed. It looked pretty clean under there, but what a tight fit. Very cosy you might say. I got up and looked around the room for a better place Bill, I did! But not even the sorry excuse for a table looked like it could hold up the darn ceiling.
Under the bed I went, squirling and maneuvering all the way. There were some questionable items in the carpet I scooted over, but nothin’ cut me so I ignored ’em. I got myself into a good enough place I thought, right smack center in the middle and I took stock of where I were. Oh lord the dust in those springs pressing into my nose! I saw crawly things up in there, and a big enough spider resting himself in the corner just waiting for an opportunity.
I came to my senses about the ceiling about this time; it’s not gonna fall while I’m here! This a sturdy building! Has been here safe and solid for years now. No no no. I decided to get myself out of the filthy spot I’d gotten into.
But Bill! I couldn’t move! My shoulder somehow got caught up into a spring, the same spring my face is pressed into. I move one way it tears my cheek, the other I hear my shirt riiiiiiip. (Good t-shirt too. New from Target.) My lip is caught as well, my right knee cannot move and my chest feels the weight of the entire mattress.
It’s pickle, Bill. That spider moved closer, I could see him creepin’. Everytime I yell for help the most awfullest things drift down into my mouth. Plus I can’t get enough air for a proper yell. I can’t turn my head to spit neither so I buck up my courage and swallow the dang things.
I paid for 5 more nights Bill. You think I’ll be ok until then? Someone’s gonna mayhap check on poor me? Oh man, I sure hope so.
CELLOPHANE 