literature

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Literature Text

"Holy Mary, mother of God."
The halogen flickered as
He stood, clutching a rod
Of steel and plastic.
The bathroom tiles--porcelain and glass--squeaked as he swayed.
"...record highs in the triple digits..." they squeaked.

"Blessed art thou amongst women," in a rushed, hushed sigh.
His voice stumbled along in its hoarseness. A raspiness of one far older than himself.
His grip on the displaced curtain rod--steel and plastic--faltered for a second.
He swayed in the hot summer wind of the air conditioning unit.
His mind wandered.
"Hail Mary."

"Hail Mary, full of grace."
The halogen flickered. On. Off.
On and off. Rhythmatically
To the heartbeat of the news report.
"...suffering from frequent brown-outs, stemming from..."
His mind wandered to stories brother had read to him.
"We were somewhere around Barstow, on the edge of the desert,-"
He forced himself to concentrate.

"Hail Mary."
A bead of sweat grew heavy.

On. Off. He shrugged in bewilderment. A million LED lights blinked once in terror and confusion,
And grew dim with a faint gunshot of static.
The apartment shuddered as the Santa Ana winds exhaled across the city.
"...EMERGENCY BROADCASTING SYSTEM. IF THIS HAD BEEN A REAL EMERGENCY..." twittered the emergency radio.
He forced himself to concentrate.

But his mind wandered to the stories mommy had read to him.
"And rain fell on the earth forty days and forty nights."
The steel rod slammed into his cracked porcelain foot.
He had to concentrate.

A bead of sweat grew heavy.

But his mind wandered to the stories.
"Now the springs of the deep and the floodgates of the heavens had been closed, and the rain had stopped falling from the sky."
The curtain rod rose and fell once more.
He cried out in pain. For mommy.
He had to concentrate.

"Hail Mary, full of grace."

A bead of sweat grew heavy, rolled down his cheek,
and fell with a thud to the tiled floor.
.
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