a head kicking production
It was a cold, foggy, and somewhat red night. I was sitting around, minding my own business.
Sorting through my files, I saw a picture I drew as a kindergartener. I stared at it in glee, and forgot the rest of the world.
Then, as I started to remember I was sitting in an office chair, I saw something from the corner of my eye, staring at me and mocking me.
It was a floating camera! What was I to do? I jumped in horror and stared in blank confusion.
I drew closer and stared in the dark, black hole of a lens.
I put my eye to the lens all the way, to see if I was only hallucinating.
I wasn't. I jumped back and wondered, "What is going on in this world of floating cameras and enormous pictures on journals?" I could only begin to imagine what this meant.
I figured, maybe my house was haunted. I ducked and tried to hide from the camera, but I knew it would find me.
I eventually came back, to take a second look.
The camera seemed to be not harmful at all. Still staring it down, in case of any rapid attacks it may make, I backed away.
I came to befriend this strange, airbourne contraption hovering before my very eyes. "Finally," I thought to myself, "a friend of my own..."
"...maybe even... a lover." I tried to kiss my camera and express my love.
The camera turned towards the door and ran in full fear, scared of my deadly kiss.
And that was the last I had seen of it...
The Fucking End