My aunt lived in a weird building. Weird building, like books incorrectly stacked. Books stacked off centred that should fall over but doesn’t because of … physics. Physics lied to you in that building. I don’t like it when physics lies. It shouldn’t lie to you because physics is physics. It’s how the world works. Should work. Does work. Is working.
So I threw up. Standing on the sidewalk, looking up at books-scacked-off-centered-physics-defying building. Looking up, then looking down and heaving.
I didn’t like it.
When I finished, I stood up straight and tried to convince myself that the building wasn’t going to fall over onto me. Or worse. A little more breathing and I’ll be fine. Just a bit more. That’s it. Maybe 15 minutes more. Breathing for 15 minutes.
“Can we go already?” A voice interrupts me. I look over. And up slightly. Because my sister is taller than me, even when she is not wearing her ridicous high heels. I see the building out of the corner of my eye. And try not to retch again. Try not to throw up. Because I do not like the taste.
But I’m looking down again. And emptying my already empty stomach. And emptying my previous stomach.
“God, you are embarrassing. You and your fucking disease.” I overhear my sister say. Over my vomiting. Loudly, her talking that is. Loud enough that you could walk by us and still hear what she was saying over the noisy traffic without straining. But perhaps not loud enough to snap you from the revery that is my aunt’s physics-defying-off-kiltered-stack-of-books building.
“It’s not a disease-“ I start to tell her, still bent over, in case my stomach decides to rebel again.
“I don’t give a shit. I just want to go in and find out what auntie left for me, if anything.” She cuts me off. I could hear her rolling her eyes. Rolling them so much that she might sprain those muscles that keep it in place.
idea from: http://redd.it/1m9m2d