by Joshua Rojas
The man made a television. “You are mine now”. The man made the television speak. “You speak because I made you speak”, said the man. The man listened to the television while it made him laugh, it heard him too. He chuckled, his laugh so ugly and volatile, a gut swinging when he did so. When off, it had no sound to make, it was not commanded to do so, but when turned on, it could make any sound you could imagine. Cheering, laughing, talking, breathing. The man was happy with the television, “You make me so happy”. The man kept watching the television and it looked back at him. “Why are you looking at me with those eyes?”, said the man. A single eye was staring at him, ominously, with only the whirring between the man and the television. While originally the images on the television appeared flat, the eye terrifyingly looked like it was embedded with the machinery. The man looked inside the television. In an instant, they became one, with each wire and cable taking each part of the man. The television had a terrible smell, organs rotted and beating. Disgusting creation, he was wretched.
