Dark Thoughts – The Gutting Knife

The seething anger for the sleeping blob had hit a boiling point today. It was nothing he did, or for that matter did not do. Simply he existed. Worse still, I lived with him. The sound emanating from his body could easily have been and entire forest being cut with a noisy gas powered chair saw. Occasionally it would sputter like an uneven piston engine when it hasn’t been tuned for a while. It would even stall, and I would hope, wish, every time that it would not start up again. Then there would be silence. Then I could sleep too.