A woman staggered out of a taxi. The world swirled and for a moment, a pole becomes the center of her world. The colourful advertisements plastered randomly along it made it look like the long leg of a patchwork pant leg.
Looking for work? Call this number.
Psychic readings. Love. Success. Happiness. All will be revealed.
A bird in rollerblades, the edges of the sticker worn, adding to the illusion of speed.
A quote scribbled in cursive “The truth becomes clear when there is no escape.”
“Rat King. A play about world leaders getting stuck in a bunker after the world ends.”
As she clumsily walked around the pole, the posters seemed to swirl together into a kaleidoscope of weathered colours and words.
Eat- Vexed- No worries- Chances are- South- Can you feel- More-
She stopped moving, her half-lidded eyes fixating on something. Someone had bored a large hole into the layers and layers of paper that had been added to this pole over the course of years, perhaps decades. She leaned in, examining the edges, white and grey, the layers went deep. The hollow had ripped away whatever meaning was embedded there.
Her chin rested on the hole. It was just the right size for her head. She pushed further in until her world was swallowed by dark.