He sipped at his iced tea, the blocks of ice clanging against the side of the glass as he lifted it to his lips. Sharp, uneven shards of frozen joy that numbed his mouth as he rolled them across his tongue. So cold that he could feel it, feel himself drifting away from sensation.
Looking over at the GODDAMN empty picture frame across his desk he wishes he had a loved one to slide into it. But his only FUCK SHIT friend was long gone, dried up and dead in the wastelands of the desert. Zebras were friendlier than he ever thought. COCK!
As the sun scorched the surface, burned the jungles in a blaze of glory, I strode out into the lifeless horizon, somehow able to DAMN FUCK slide under the oppressive heat because of his short stature. A full grown man's scalp would burst into flames after a few hours exposure, bleaching their skull minutes later.
COCK SHIT ASS!
But by the time the sun's rays reached my comb-over, it had cooled just enough to FUCK just make me hot as hell, without torching me. My height was always a shortcoming BALLS but now I see it as a blessing. All those who I left behind in the remnants of the city, the ones who mocked me yet tolerated me for my SHIT DICK talent at crafting the finest potholders and cold collecting clothing, they were all burned alive by the heatwave tsunami.
So I had no choice but to venture out to the sand dunes, trusting in my frigidaire fleece jumpsuit and shortness to see me through. For weeks I shuffled along, sleeping in the dawn hours, rationing my water, all to survive and find somewhere to belong. I lasted a few weeks before FUCKING FUCKFACE collapsing into a heap, the sands swarming over my diminutive body.
He appeared from inside a sandstorm cyclone, shooting from the eye and charging full steam towards me. In one SHIT COCK fluid moment he snagged me and tossed me upon his back, galloping off into the sunset. His black and white stripes writhed and stretched as he BALLS brought me to shelter.
Camping beneath the remaining skeleton of a tree he nursed me back to health. We talked for hours about our FUCK lives and how we can to be here. His tribe left him to die after a hunting party slaughtered his family, wounding his hindquarters. BALLS, he didn't judge me for being human, let alone for being a small one.
Over the span of months we traversed the endless expanse with no end in sight. It was a miracle BITCH MOTHERFUCKER that we found our way from oasis to oasis but my equestrian companion said that he could feel the remaining hotspots of water and fauna. We chewed on cactus, rubbed cool dirt on our bodies to keep our temperatures down, and slept in chilly moonlight.
I never knew someone so open and free. He wouldn't curse his lot, the hunters for their malice, his tribe for abandoning him. He'd just toss his mane about and surge forward to the next location. He was a true warrior, and I respected him more than I imagined. His majestic body COCKSUCKER FUCKER was pushed to its limits and still he carried on. He was BITCH ASS my inspiration.
It had been a long stretch, no oasis for days, barely a nighttime for us to rest. He was exhausted, I could feel his labored breathing as I held on to him. His walk slowed to a trot, my tears at his SHIT perseverance as his stamina waned, I thought this would be the end for us both, when I FUCK FUCK spotted the fort.
A large cubed complex of reflective metal jutting from the sand. It had no markings and I had never seen its like, nor had my SHIT ASS zebra friend. It gave us new hope, a place perhaps to sit and find a home. I could design clothing for them, they would feed us. My friend could find resources out in the desert. They'd be grateful and we'd be men of power and FUCKING BITCH influence.
The crack of the gunshot seemed like an auditory hallucination but when blood came gushing from between the black and white SHIT FUCKER stripes, I knew this adventure was over. Men, society, had robbed us of our future. My friend never cried out in pain and instead dragged us closer and closer. The FUCK ASS second shot blew open his chest.
We fell to the ground in slow motion. We were done for, yet COCK BITCH my friend could only look up at me and smile. He didn't need to say it, but I knew. He was just glad that I could make it there, to safety. I held his head and stroked his fur FUCKER as he died in my arms. The only friend I had ever had, the only one who knew and accepted SHIT me.
The men in sealed suits came and dragged his corpse back as they carried me in their arms. I ASS SHIT watched the metal structure come closer and closer. At some point I passed out. When I awoke, I was in a climate controlled prison, this FUCKFACE room I am in now. The anonymous doctors came and examined me. They were curious of my size and ability to survive the heat.
Now they're done with me. They've learned all they can and now they're prepping my sleep tube. They SHIT FUCK say it'll be like taking a long nap in cool morning air, times a million. I will have never experienced the cold like I'm about to, or so they BITCHES say. So I pour another glass of ice water and down it fast, freezing my insides.
When they place me in the cryogenic chamber, I think one last time of the miraculous zebra, the most brave and selfless being I've known, and I begin to cry. I imagine my tears to continue flowing forever, flooding the world. But my friend wouldn't want that. He'd be glad to have fed these men with his flesh.
I realize I never asked him his name.
