Mouths wide open. That’s how his neighbors spend their evenings nowadays. Necks cocked back to the ceiling, taking in the dripping streams...
Fudge Stanley, I present to you, with spectacular regret.
He is the one,
The one and only being on earth who can save you.
But he won’t.
At least not anytime soon.
He’s got other priorities topping his list.
I know, I know it appears all he ever does is sit around at home.
But really. What of it?
So what if he sits in his apartment,
melts into his chair,
into the carpet,
and drips down through the floor to the ceiling of the neighbors downstairs?
Mouths wide open.
That’s how his neighbors spend their evenings nowadays.
Necks cocked back to the ceiling, taking in the dripping streams.
Guzzling them down,
Not even thinking twice.
Some weeks they spend seven out of eight days standing in a swelling puddle in their living room,
their mouths gaping,
taking in the spectacular regret.
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