We pack in, like marbles in a jar, filling every inch, moving and oscillating. What space is left is occupied with the smell of sweat and passive aggression.
We ride this mechanical snake as it rattles and snarls. How I hate that deafening sound. How I long for grass and sunlight.
How many hours have I wasted on this underground eel? How many days? How many weeks? Like being suffocated except it takes a lifetime to actually draw the last breath.
An artificial gale drives through my hair. Good thing I didn’t have time to sort it out this morning anyway. The caveman look is in now yeah? At least then I can pretend I’ve encountered the outside world.
– – E.M. Wragg
E.M. Wragg hails from Essex, England. You can usually find him waxing poetic on the streets of London or at home watching movies with his dog. He’s currently working on his first children’s book.
Read about how Ed started his 10 Minute Tantrum series and then send us your own tantrums and we’ll post them!