Midnight Radio Theater Blog

The Disappearing Man
by Billy Senese

A disappearing man is no man at all.
This repeats over and over in my head.
I don’t know what it means.

The black spot has returned.
I wonder if it’s her fault.
It keeps following me from the other room.
It’s getting bigger.

The fucking moon, it’s too bright, it hurts my eyes.
Just a big pile of nothingness to look forward to.
I don’t like to think about it.

Fuck her, I don’t care about her.
Maybe the moon will get her, she deserves it.

She fucking deserves it.