The Morning

I split my knee open. Why did I do that? Men beyond the edge of the ridge had hammers they used to scalp the others at my School for the Deaf. But why? The pinking cream ran from me for several hours in smokelike locks. I could not walk and couldn’t sit down as where the land touched my legs it burned a lot and choked me from the inside. New soil the color of my tongued. When I died I saw a special field and could not recall the way to make my hands type beyond e-9r72-0937r0uouw4lfijsldfhjalsdjhfiasuhdf. The computer crashed and fried. My blood like the whole sun was pale till it was gone again.

Blake Butler is the author of five books, the most recent of which is Sky Saw. He is editor of HTMLGIANT and lives in Atlanta.

Advertisements