Among the Lost

The bag slipped.  A potato chip fell into the crack between the couch cushions.  I reached in after it.  My arm went in and down.  I felt loose change slide past my fingers.  I found an old battery.

Why stop there? I wondered. 

I slid deeper, down to the springs, down to the carpet, and the bare concrete.  I passed the subways and the dirt, a rusted signpost, a sunken city of blind things that mewled like kittens.

And the dark.

That’s where I stayed.

I’m sure they’ve sold my things by now.  Including the couch.

Careful with your chips.