Don’t remove jewels from your crown to make it easier for others to carry. Find someone with stronger hands. Preferably someone with talons, perhaps large wings to lift the weight, a beak to fend off predators. Date a pterodactyl. Pterodactyls are good company.
there is a Starbucks on campus. you go there enough to have the employees’ names memorized, but there seems to be new people each time you go. this is your third venti latte of the day. you hand the cashier your punch card. they rip a new star-shaped hole with their nails. when you look at their name tag to thank them, all you see are chalk paint scribbles. it doesn’t matter. there’ll be someone new by the time you return in an hour.
you spend every night on the fourth floor of the library. there is only one room on that floor, full of windows. the rest of the floor is kept behind locked doors that claim to be “SPECIAL COLLECTIONS.” it is always just on the cusp of the sunset when you arrive to the fourth floor, and the sky darkens to pitch-black within minutes. you check your watch. it’s 3pm. the lights of the campus twinkle back at you. you drink your venti latte.
did you know you have an essay due tomorrow? you sit down to work on it. as you open your word document, a web browser video suddenly opens instead. you click it closed. it opens again. this time, it’s playing a new episode of House of Cards on Netflix. you’ve never seen this episode. you click it closed an hour later. did you know you have an essay due in an hour? you open your word document.
“The student center will be under renovation for a while,” the chancellor announced with a close-lipped smile. how long? you asked. “Oh, you know.” they offered a vague hand waggle. “Probably a few months. Maybe a year? We’ll just have to wait and see.” they direct you to the architectural firm that will be handling the project. when you hunt down the building, a trio of dogs growl at you from behind a 6 foot fence. barbed wire sparkles like frost. all of the lights in the building are off, and grass grows between the cracks in the parking lot. you make a u-turn and head back to campus.
your bio lecture has 143 students in it, your teacher announced on the first day of class. when she uses the iClickers to take roll, you always choose B. there are 70 students in the class, your teacher announced a week later. only 35 by midterms. now it’s finals week. you can only see one other student out of the corner of your eye. there is something hungry about him. you don’t know if you’ll be able to press B again, next week.
wait a mother-fucking second. “vale” means valley. assuming night vale was named such due to location, these fuckers are fucking surrounded by mountains (theoretically, of course — I’d never go against the government by believing in mountains), yet they don’t believe mountains exist (and neither do I because I am an upstanding night vale resident).
(the sheriff’s secret police got that bit where I said I definitely do not believe in mountains, right?)