FSE

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"Memories are a real pain in the tail feathers. It's like taking a bullet to the brain. That sharp sound you hear right before the sea of silence takes ya." Rip Runner sucked in the last drag of the burned cigarette butt. Unsatisfied, the roadrunner flicked the smoldering end into the wet grass. Tonight he didn't see where it landed. The moon's intensity dulled the orange smolders of the cigarette. Eventually one of the tiny park robots will whistle over it and disintegrate the rubbish, but that won't be before sunrise.

Zeke wasn't listening, but Rip never cared about his friend's attention. Talking in front of someone who couldn't listen felt euphoric. Rip loved to prattle when Zeke passed out. It felt healing without the burning guilt and shame of confessing such dark thoughts.

"Memory bullets hit hard." he continued. "That fucking moment you fuck up a friendship after breaking their toy. The chemistry teacher who snatches the quiz from your desk after you're caught cheating, and you quietly sit while everyone else finishes. The scolding from Dad about your screw ups and failures. Embarrassing mothers who baby you in the schoolyard for chocolate stains on your cheeks."

The roadrunner's violet feathers glistened in the light of the park's fountain mist. He pulled his moistened hoodie over his head to hide. The feathers flattened across his brow providing protection from the bright glares of the night city.

Rip grabbed another vial of white rose dust from his pocket and popped the rubber cork. It took a few idle seconds to swish the contents around before pouring out the remaining chemicals onto a slab of cardboard.

"Those are the easy ones to live through." Rip snickered and threw the rubber cork to the ground. The disquieted bird bent the cardboard and the powder lined up in the crevice ready to receive marching orders. "They hurt like a fucking gun to the head. You suddenly remember it, you ain't done anything to warrant it, and it's nothing but cringe. You swear at yourself for being so stupid. Then it passes."

He peered over at his friend breathing softly into his dripping drool stuck to the ground. Rip kicked Zeke's back a few times, and the human groaned softly in retaliation. Rip looked up at the stream of flying cars flowing around skyscrapers. Their constant hum and irregular beeps oddly subduing.

As he spaced out he continued the rant, "The fucking worst are the ones that never leave. Like Dad's wrath while he cradles Rev's broken arm. All because you had to fucking skateboard down the patio railing to get a jump on him."

Rip stuffs the straw deep into a nostril and pain pricks his beak.

"Or how about when Dad skewers me in front of superheroes. Reminds them what a fucking let down I turned out to be. Not good enough like Rev is. Not an inventor like Rev is. Not an action hero like Rev is."

He pinches his nostril and inhales sharply. White rose crystals hit the back of his sinuses and tears well up under his eyes.

"Yeah. And the worst is remembering every fucking time they cry because I screw up. Those are the worst."

Rip shivered as the headache returned, followed by a euphoric explosion crawling out of his cranium and down the spine. He leaned over to ride the wave. The troubled bird closed his eyes so the blinding colors stopped irritating the headache.

It didn't take long, and before he knew it memories started to berate him again. He shattered the vial against the concrete sidewalk in a bout of dissatisfaction.

"Fucking DOPE." He fell into the back of his unconscious friend and the night enveloped him into a temporary silence.