Bloom

Bloom by Sara Spring

What have you been doing all day? I haven’t been doing anything at all, I answered myself. The inner musings in my head began to churn like oiled machinery. I am a machine. I make a humming sound. I move and I function without any control. My body is an encasement. My thoughts are a computer process and my body moves with controls.

I hear something clicking down the hallway; I deduce that it is a coworker. A shell of a man that has nothing inside that I can grasp- his actions are all I have to work from. The inflection and tone of his voice, a chirping sound he makes.

 (read more…)