Illegitimate Sun

In time, flying lost its appeal. Sure, soaring above the clouds under my own power- shooting between destinations at speeds unheard of was always a thrill. Flying, not in a plane but on my own, was a gift that no other being possessed.

But I found myself daydreaming of walking. Placing one foot in front of the other as I stroll slowly down the street. Dodging other walkers, waiting for the WALK sign, feeling the pinch of uncomfortable shoes – these thoughts began to fill my days.

Last night, I dreamed about walking so much I got a blister.

I orgasmed.

Naked, they pushed him out into the raging snow. He was marched from the workshop blindly, flakes lashing his eyes.

Rough hands forced him onto his knees.

The round hard feel of the gun against his temple was colder than the biting winds. The click of the hammer echoed through his skull.

“Where is your Santa now?”