Unwritten Diary

As I sat on the chair carefully adorned by ornaments on my hands and legs with a conductive helmet clearly designed to take the attention from my huge head, I looked into the blank eyes of my audience as they crossed their hands over their thighs and sat in a perfect posture letting the silence creep in slowly leaving a vacuum that can only be filled by The Long Robe of Muerte.

I heard the church bells ringing in my head so I closed my eyes to hear the muffled murmurs of the full church who had only come to make sure I was gone and not to pray for my or their atonement. I could see the light rising in their eyes as they looked down on me, with a slight wry smile on their left cheek as the thought of me being no longer available warmed their hearts and made their veins clearly visible. I could see the frozen expression on my face as I lay in a perfect straight, my right hand resting on my left on my chest showing someone who clearly wouldn't love wherever he went.

I opened my eyes to see a young woman whispering to the ear of a much older woman then writing something down on her notebook. I think she felt my piercing eyes and she looked up to me with her deep brown eyes.

A strand of hair was gently resting on her left shoulder while the rest was carefully held at the back of her head. Her parted pink lips gently let out her breath and made me wish I could feel that as the last thing instead of my 'not more than 20 dollar meal' that they had offered me.

Her body is the kind of body you wish would lay by you every night and every morning awaken to her face. Her breasts gently squeezed by her blouse with a cleavage that gave me a taste of what I could never get or see. Her black stripped skirt slowly, very slowly actually, rising as she shifted her sitting position regularly like she was impatient or nervous even. Her yellow thighs, at least as much as I could see, shone in the fluorescent light and at that time I was thankful that there was something bright in the room.

I saw her eyes move down my body then saw a slight smile and a twitch in her upper lip and so I glanced down on myself only to find out that a scout had taken the liberty to pitch a tent betwixt my thighs.

I was asked to say my last words and everything seemed irrelevant than to look her straight into her eyes and tell her, "You're beautiful". They put the bag over my face and I leaned back on my chair and I let them send shocks to my Unwritten Diary.