He woke early; his shanty of an apartment, lifted several stories above the street, allowed much more light than he, and many others, would have wished to deal with so early in the morning. The first voice he heard was not his own. It spoke in a hushed, gargled tone; badgering at the back of his mind like a persistent migraine. To him it seemed a standard awakening was at play but he knew it would draw more than a mild reaction from others.

A patchwork quilt landed against the floor, the impact nearly shaking it's stitching out of place. He had made that thing himself and had paid for it with a multitude of bloody pricks. They healed right away, though. They always did.

Crusted bits of dust and dirt fell from the ceiling, showering him in further filth as he rolled toward his bathroom. Dirt was familiar and so was the burning of his stomach. Life had it's familiarities and one must get used to them was some sound advice the old man offered to him.

The real problem, he supposed, was the old man's similarities were a bit estranged from his own. His words were tender but so artificial. Very similar to the ramen that he had planned to snack on later tonight.

The washing of his teeth was one such familiarity that he was sure he shared with his elder. Though, the man's decrepit and golden teeth made him think otherwise at times. The mental image of those sharpened, gnarly rocks made his own washing that much more vigorous. Wash the old away! Fervent muttering was the music of the day for him it seemed.

After that, things grew fuzzy. Fuzzy wasn't a sensation his overactive mind was used to. Fuzzy wasn't even a word established fully in his vocabulary yet the sensation of floating heat washing against him like an acidic breeze could only be described as fuzzy. He remembered feeling as tall as he had ever felt before for a single instant before bleeding black swallowed him whole. Luckily enough, he must have tasted horrible because he was spat out a moment later, feeling much shorter than he did before.

His eyes and ears were steaming. Someone shouted or maybe multiple someones. It was difficult to tell with the mouthful of blood he had captured behind the remainder of his teeth. He spat out the useless liquid while noting that his shanty was now allowing much more light than before. He would find it hard to believe anyone wanted this amount of light this early in the morning.

Look, look, look

The shouting was enough to grate on his nerves so he did just as it asked. Blue eyes fell upon an equally as blue sky, clear of a single cloud. It a was beautiful, retching pain that exploded from his stomach, but it was still beautiful. Even as the sun beat against his exposed skin, it remained beautiful. He had just enough time to dizzily wonder why a single bird remained in the sky before a soundless force ripped everything from existence.

I'm making something! I like it. I like it a ton. More will be made. How much and when? No idea. But, stuff is being made. I hope to improve on my previous efforts just like with everything I write up.