Join My Cult - Original Falcon Press

Alexi was standing on a beach in Atlantic City, New Jersey, his hair
whipped by the violent and bitter wind that came in tremendous blasts
from the sea. Because it was a winter day, the shore was otherwise completely
abandoned. The sun half-hid behind a hazy patch of clouds, and
offered no noticeable warmth to the beach below.
Directly beside him stood Samantha, one hand resting comfortably on
the back of his arm, the other dangling listlessly at her side. They were
close to the shoreline; flecks of the salty water sprayed them in the face
as the waves came crashing down endlessly and tumultuously. Each
stared out to the horizon, rendered speechless by the effect the passing
storm was having upon the black, opaque water.
He looks expectantly—
“What do you want?” she asks with her eyes. In other words, “who
do you want me to be?”
A seagull landed and cocked its head, one beady eye regarding them
coldly. Knocking on a rock three times, it hopped back, partially extending
its wings, calling out shrilly once and then again. This knocked Alexi
out of his trance, and he stared back. “Three, and then two,” he said
softly, the sound of subtle concern creeping into his voice. It ruffled its
feathers in what he would have described as an exasperated manner,
called out four times, and took flight. Smiling briefly, he turned towards
Samantha, preparing to say something—but that something never came.
He froze solid as a statue, suddenly enraptured by the expression he
found there.
none of the words are mine anymore
(were they ever mine?! am i a puppet?! am I real?!)
(shut up.)
the thoughts that fill my head other voices
other ideas others
Other
i am Other (others)
i am escaping
She didn’t seem to notice his silent admiration. People only look truly
human when they think no one is watching. Everything around her was
perfectly still, as if she had been trapped within a photograph. Only the
waves continued to crash, moving in regular fractal-like patterns to the
hazy horizon.
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