XXXIV | Some Advice

❦

Mind your own business,
I want to tell him.

But his voice is low,
he's jumpy

like something's wrong.

I already
know

something's not right

with this place.

I go to the dining room
to spit out the orange.

It tastes

like dish cloth.

I grab the other half from Gavin
and throw that away too.

He pours himself a bowl of cereal

and I get

a sense of deja vu.

(Not sure why.)

I just eat a pack of biscuits.

'I'm sure
'I recognise you,'
I say

while he pours too much milk
into his cereal.

His spoon slides off the edge

and drowns
in the bowl.

Muscles
along the length

of his scarred arm
twitch.

He fishes it out,
adds more cereal

to balance out the milk.

'I've been here
'much longer than

'you've been alive,'

he says.

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