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metalhead (profile) wrote, on 8-18-2009 at 7:45pm | |
Subject: A Taste of Home |
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I. My eardrums fought against the pressure change, everyone exhaled and the wings shuddered open. The engine's hollow roar dissolved and the lights ticked on. II. Not-my-bags trundled endlessly before my mechanical muscles reached for one they recognized and swung its familiar bulk to smash on the cart. III. Shway shway! Fee combyutar dakhil, hajji! The words come only after I say them - like half-formed pearls oozing and popping at the back of my throat. IV. This place feels mushy and incoherent like old food re-found behind molars, but it tastes like my bedsheets and smells like something left behind. |
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