<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" standalone="yes"?><oembed><version><![CDATA[1.0]]></version><provider_name><![CDATA[Architect of Experience]]></provider_name><provider_url><![CDATA[https://architectofexperience.wordpress.com]]></provider_url><author_name><![CDATA[K.W. Burnette]]></author_name><author_url><![CDATA[https://architectofexperience.wordpress.com/author/kwburnette/]]></author_url><title><![CDATA[Flash Fiction #1 ]]></title><type><![CDATA[link]]></type><html><![CDATA[<p>A broken molar scrapes the inside of my lip. Teeth once coddled by an orthondotist are now caught in pieces between my molars and my gums. When you&#8217;re in stunning pain its hard not to grit your teeth.</p>
<p>Oh the pain,</p>
<p>What fantastic pleasure,</p>
<p>What life-giving fucking ecstasy.</p>
<p>Blood pumps past my ears to the ball of hate in between. The animal in there snarls and bites but I wipe the blood from my lips and get up. I tried to spit a tooth out, but instead I dribble out shattered fragments of my head.</p>
<p>I got back up.</p>
<p>I fucking got back up.</p>
<p>He was fist bumping his friends as I staggered. I tried to summon words and found only blood. I wiped again, red streaks on the back of my arm. As the blood dried it pulled the hairs from their roots, one by one. A whisper of pain against the roar of the rest.</p>
<p>&#8220;You want more?&#8221; He yelled. His neutered jackals laughed as their Mussolini flexed. I knew I could die today, I knew he didn&#8217;t care. He walks back over to me like his dick is scraping the floor: one half menace, the other creatine.</p>
<p>Me: &#8220;Yes Please&#8221;</p>
<p>See, he has this moment of lovely doubt. He sees something in me, he sees that whatever pain I&#8217;m in is pale and wrinkled in comparison to what&#8217;s left under my fingernails.</p>
<p>Blood, left long enough, passes well for dirt.</p>
<p>I stare him down for a beat before his sleeve-lacking lackeys egg him on. &#8220;Fuck him up&#8221; they say, like I don&#8217;t want to get fucked. &#8220;Kill the Faggot&#8221; they say, like I&#8217;ve never tried</p>
<p>&#8220;Come on!&#8221; I&#8217;d already swallowed or spat the blood so the only thing left in my throat was grit. I beckoned him forward, &#8220;Let&#8217;s get my dick hard&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Oh, you like this, freak?&#8221; His veiny satellites jeer and he laughs. I was back in the schoolyard, gravel in my knees and filled with spite. Here is my revenge.</p>
<p>I dribble out another bloody fragment of tooth that had dislodged itself from my gums. So I told him: &#8220;Let&#8217;s turn this into a hate crime&#8221;</p>
<p>And boy, did we.</p>
<p>Three minutes or an hour went by. He only lasted a few more punches before he resorted to kicking me, curled on the pavement. I think I took the punches better than he did.</p>
<p>But soon they got bored.</p>
<p>They always do.</p>
<p>They walked away thinking they&#8217;d won.</p>
<p>The entire world soon shrunk to contain only me, my pain, and a night sky that stretched from the roof of one building to another. Stars outnumbered by blinking planes.</p>
<p>Pain shot up my side, blinking planes now outnumbered by swimming static. It took a second before I realized: thats what laughing feels like now.</p>
<p>The moment wasn&#8217;t lost on me.</p>
<p>This is my revenge against the world. My first and final act of retribution. This is how I get out of bed, this is how I will myself to live. Bloody and beaten, too tired beyond my years with still too little of my life lived.</p>
<p>I stood the fuck up.</p>
<p>I stood up, and I staggered the fuck away.</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
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