Untethered

He wasn’t even there because he wanted to be. Well he wasn’t sure. That was the only shop in town with eggs. And there wasn’t much else he usually craved. When he thought how it to him seemed like the world. The yolk the core and white part the place with people and his family and the shell like the layer that protects us. He was curled in ball now. On the ground shaking the pain had stopped. The waited was standing over top of him. And spat down. Fucking prick. The restaurant kept going. People finished their food staring at there phones. Scrolling and swiping. There were young kids at a table only asking each other  if they saw the approved program. The story about the blue man. That’s the only thing really anyone talked about. But now lying on the floor the man thought how weird that was. Wasn’t there something before the blue man? He remembers a man with a guitar. And a watchtower. He looked around most people were glued to their screens the light illuminating their faces. Orange light now because it was late but blue in the morning. But right now he didn’t really have to urge to look at his, the pain he thought shook something loose. And things that seemed one way seemed another. He just stayed on the floor listening to sounds of the shop. People coming and going, spoons clinking on bowls forks on plates, the crinkle of the receipt paper, and the sound of plastic bags being filled with styrofoam boxes.