70

I think I forgot to study for that midterm exam I got to take tomorrow. I’ll have to pull an All Nighter.

I tell my roommates to get out. They don’t want to go but they know they don’t have a choice.

I lock the door behind them.

Around 3 a.m. the dead begin to speak to me.

Black ghosts have confiscated the white noise.

I examine the Victrola to make sure that it’s working.

It is.

I perceive the voices of deceased autocrats contacting me from the Underworld. Their clipped accents belie their opaque intentionality.

I get the sense that the voices will never go away.

I turn off the Victrola.

They go away.


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