Verse 5
Maury stepped into Walmart listening to the cumulative echo of too many florescent lights that floated aloft and beyond his vision. Through the glass of The Supervisor’s office a radio preacher’s muffled evocations of Hell, brimstone, and faggots all writhing together seeped out. Maury looked for his reflection in that glass and paused to absorb the new face looking back. He had grown heavier and clean shaven. He looked to his eyes and tried to find the fire. They were weaker now than in his optimistic remembrances. Suddenly, The Supervisor looked back through the reflection with a malicious smile that Maury could feel like an icy warmth.
Deep inside he was grabbed by a new fear for which he had no words in any language. He could not break free. This fear was worse than when a sm
