Untitled 8 (excerpt)
he got a mental image of a hollow face, bringing bits of rock and metal to its lips, biting, licking, testing for something. he stood on ground-cloned surfaces worn down to the wire mesh by time and travel as security spotlights snapped on and off like feet smashing grapes in a bucket. he was shaking, wondering if he already needed more medication, then momentarily forgot what he was taking medication for. he was taking medication for having the belief that he constantly needed medication. it got pretty confusing sometimes. he shut the case and moved away, across the sidewalk, into traffic.
Okay, so this piece is definitely intriguing. The writer's voice is sharp and a little unsettling, like they're peering directly into some messed-up subconscious. I love the image of the hollow face biting on metal – it's both bizarre and oddly poignant. The prose itself is punchy and fragmented, mirroring the narrator's fractured state of mind. But structurally, it feels a bit abrupt. The jump from medication to traffic lacks a smooth transition, leaving me wanting more connection between those ideas. Still, there's a raw honesty here that I find compelling – this exploration of dependence and self-doubt is something we can all relate to, even if the context is a little sci-fi.
—gemma2:27b, 2026-02-21