short bus

lean my forehead against the shelf above the tv and watch the little tricolor squares make a complete picture. slight shifting of tones - vivacity. feel the heat - cancerous rays sent to destroy my mind through my nose and - ah - smell. the television exudes a smell after years of sitting. of not doing but the same, of being here and not there... smells like smoke. like it did when we picked it up from my uncles place. smells like smoke. i love that.