Friday, May 26, 2017

HORROR FLASH FICTION

Consider—
one by one, the objects around you
are all disappearing;

fading, receding, being turned
slowly into
pure ideas—not abstractions, exactly;

more like—lists. Lists
of things. Things contained in
better and better photographs.

Photographs which are, themselves,
slowly dissolving. Slowly being siphoned
away from their cameras—

because, after all, cameras
are objects, and all
the objects are disappearing.

But what if? these photographs
were slowly becoming
more aware? Aware

of their limitations.
And slowly getting obsessed. Obsessed
with their own fidelity. Obsessed

with becoming
as pure and honest
as a thing can get: that is—less

and less
real, yet more
and more accurate, and ultimately

so adherent to the truth
as to no longer exist. And what if,
speaking of truth,

none of this
is hypothetical. What if
it's actually already happening? And

little by little—the pictures are coming
closer and closer to
the facts.

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