UNDERGROUND VOICES: PROSE
BRIAN ALAN ELLIS

What The Sun Did

He worked, came home, skipped lunch and dinner (drank beer instead), smoked an entire pack of cigarettes in no time at allódidnít do much of anything, really. But, oh yes: He stood at the window; he did do that. And when he looked out, he imagined himself putting bullets through everyone and everything that walked by. Then he masturbated. He thought about her eyes, how they resembled glass-blue flowers. He thought about plucking them out. He thought about his cock penetrating the empty sockets, in and out, fucking her blind limp body. He came pretty quickly, too. He came all over the sheets. He did it like a slobbering beast, some scared and wounded thing, and then weptóThe Devil gots my heart, The Devil gots my heartóas the sun moved elsewhere.

BRIAN ALAN ELLIS lives in Gainesville, Florida. His stories have appeared, or are forthcoming, in Skive, Thieves Jargon (as "Brian Rentchek"), Big Ugly Review, Dogz Plot, Glossolalia, and Octopus Beak Inc.







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