“Our world recycles souls, wiping our memories clean after every death. You wake up in the body of (animal of your choosing) locked up and on display in a Zoo. This time, you remember everything…”
What are these claws I carry? I reach only forward and I see sand flickering through my grasp, like someone’s smoky vision implanted in my brain.
My head reverberates, clicking against the shells, that share my confusion.
I see hell in every pulsing shade from the red lights above.
I remember my human service, once pressed onto this Earth in a busy reckless bundle.
Now I scuttle with too many legs, and pause for every bubble drifting, shimmering, guideless.